Atom's Glow
by WulfenOne
Summary: The Commonwealth is at peace after the destruction of the Institute, but that peace is about to be threatened as the Children of Atom prepare for holy war. Rachel Adams, Sole Survivor of Vault 111, and Piper Wright, ace reporter, are the only ones who can stop them.
1. The Drums Of War

Rachel Adams blinked herself awake, rubbing her green eyes blearily before groping for the Pip-Boy she had laid on the bedside table. Glancing at its glowing green display screen, she saw that it was almost nine in the morning, which was a little earlier than she'd hoped for considering that she had only gone to sleep a few hours beforehand, after returning home from an overly-long scavenger hunt which had only resulted in a few bags of stringy mole-rat meat and some spare scraps of metal. Not exactly worth the amount of effort she'd put into it, but she supposed she had to take what she could get.

"Wakey-wakey, Blue," came an amused voice. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom was the Commonwealth's most intrepid (and at this point possibly only) reporter, Piper Wright. "Got your morning pick-me-up ready and waiting right here, doll-face." She offered Rachel one of the two mugs she was carrying, and Rachel dragged herself off the bed and took the mug gladly. She knew exactly what it was - cheap, pungent coffee that tasted like it had been roasted in a crematorium - but she never began her day without it (or at least she did whenever they could find a stash of it, anyway). These days any kind of mundane ritual was something to be treasured.

"Thank you," she said gratefully before she took a sip and the ashen, bitter flavour crossed her tongue. "Just what the doctor ordered."

Piper smiled, and kissed Rachel on the lips. "You're welcome. Good morning to you too."

"So what do you feel like doing today?"

Piper sighed, suddenly looking a little disappointed. "Yeah… about that - I just ran into Preston, and he told me to tell you he needs to speak to you about something whenever you're up and about."

"Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel special, Pipes," Rachel laughed. "Thanks anyway - I'll talk to him after I've washed up. Whatever it is, though, I'm sure I won't like it."

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown, huh?" Piper said. "Just remember, you agreed to all of this, so you have nobody to blame but yourself, Blue."

"I know, I know," Rachel replied, sensing defeat. "I made my bed and now I have to lie in it." She sighed. "It's just… sometimes I wish that those goddamn Super Mutants would take a day off once in a while, you know?"

"Well, you know what they say - time and Super Mutants wait for no man. Better get out there… General," Piper said with a lopsided smile.

"You know, it's weird enough when Preston calls me that," Rachel replied, pursing her lips. "When you say it, it's just uncomfortable."

"Mission accomplished," Piper said, before she pointed at the door. "Now finish your coffee, stop stalling, and be the leader I know you are."

"Okay, okay, I know when I'm beaten," Rachel said with a shrug. Getting up off the bed, she swigged the last of her coffee down in one gulp, quickly dressed herself in a t-shirt and jeans and clipped her Pip-Boy closed around her left forearm, then made her way into the bathroom and rubbed the condensation off the cracked mirror so she could make herself look at least presentable for the day. She rinsed her hands in the basin full of collected rain-water and then ran them through her short, jet-black hair so that it felt a little less chaotic, tucking most of it behind her ears and leaving two cheek-length bangs.

 _Time to put your game face on,_ she thought. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door of her house and headed out into the sunlight. It was harsher than she had initially thought, with only a sparse covering of cloud to obscure it. Squinting until her eyes had adjusted, she glanced over to where she heard Preston Garvey's voice as he directed some of his Minutemen towards the turret-ringed garrison posts at the edge of the settlement, and then headed towards him, calling out his name as she did so. When she had got close enough, Preston tipped his hat to her respectfully and greeted her with a simple "Good morning, General."

"Hey, Preston," Rachel replied, still trying to blink away the sunlight a little. "Piper tells me you have something to talk to me about?"

"Afraid so, General," Preston said, "and it's not good news. Some of our scouts found some pretty scary stuff in at least three ruined settlements to the north." He reached into his knapsack and then held out his hand. Clutched in it was a bloody, tattered pennant with a crudely-embroidered emblem on it, which Rachel recognised as the symbol of the Children of Atom.

"The Children of Atom? What could they have been doing there?" she asked.

"We're not sure," Preston said. "The settlements were picked clean of anything useful and we found a lot of melted radiation weapons, but we didn't see any bodies. Either the Children were really thorough in policing up the casualties, or they took those settlers alive." He shuddered. "Whatever they did, this can't be a coincidence - it seems like a coordinated attack, and the Children aren't exactly known for their coordination. This is uncharted territory, and I'm not sure I like it."

"Me neither," Rachel said, as an all-too-familiar ache settled triumphantly at the base of her skull, "but I think I need to speak with Elder Maxson about this."

"Maxson?" Preston raised an eyebrow. "What could he have to say?"

"It's not so much what he has to _say_ as what he might _do_ ," Rachel explained. "If this is what I think it is, then I need to make sure Maxson doesn't deploy any Brotherhood soldiers just yet - or worse, let Liberty Prime loose again. The last thing the Commonwealth needs right now is another war." She paused. "I'll need some time to do some repairs on my power armour, though. Can't be visiting my commanding officer without looking my best, right?"

"I guess I can't argue with that," Preston admitted with a half-smile. "I know I always try to keep my jacket looking its best just to impress my general."

Rachel laughed despite herself. "As you should, soldier. I'll see you later." With that, she turned on her heel and headed back to her and Piper's house, her mind bubbling over with ideas of what she could possibly say to Maxson that would avert disaster. After the way that the Brotherhood had cracked open the Institute and then disembowelled it so ruthlessly that nothing was left but a smoking crater, she had no doubts whatsoever that they would be equally merciless towards any military forces other than their own - even if that military force was composed simply of crazed, emaciated humans clad only in ragged, dirty robes and face-paint, wielding nothing but rusty blades and cobbled-together, poorly-maintained weaponry. Then again, having seen how the Children had terrorised Far Harbor just with their mere presence, she supposed they shouldn't be taken lightly either. One thing was for sure, though: she would need to speak with High Confessor Tektus too. DiMA's synth puppet or not, he had to know something about this.

 _This is going to be fun,_ she thought bitterly as she pushed open her house's rickety wooden front door.

The sight that greeted her when she walked through the doorway was oddly comforting in its familiarity. As often happened in the mornings, Nat and Shaun were fighting over the contents of the last jug of fresh brahmin milk.

"Mom! Nat won't let me have the milk!" Shaun cried. "She took it and now she won't give it back!"

"I need it more than you!" Nat snorted. "You haven't even poured out your breakfast yet! I have!" She pointed to her bowl, which was already full almost to the brim with Sugar Bombs. "See?" She looked up at Rachel, clearly hoping that she would side with her. Rachel shrugged.

"Nat's got a point, Shaun," she said. "You'll have to wait until Auntie Cait does some more milking - she shouldn't be too long now."

"But Mom -"

"No more arguments, please," Rachel snapped, cutting Shaun off mid-sentence. "Now say sorry to your sister."

"Sorry, Nat," Shaun mumbled, a sullen glower settling across his face in defeat.

"So she can hear you, Shaun," Rachel chided him sternly. Clearly stung by her scolding, Shaun repeated his apology, this time in a more audible voice. When he had done so Rachel continued "Good boy. Now I don't want to hear another word about this, is that clear?" Shaun opened his mouth as if he wanted to press the issue, but Rachel held up her hand to silence him. "Not. One. Word. Are we clear?" Shaun's mouth snapped shut and he sank down in his seat, his expression as dark as an overcast sky, while Nat happily began tucking into her breakfast. Rachel resolved to make it up to him later, perhaps by taking him fishing or hunting. She still had a few tricks up her sleeve that Nate had taught her when the rationing started to pinch - being able to catch their own food helped them survive - thrive, even - and kept their larder more stocked than their neighbours. She knew how to construct a sturdy snare and find the right bait for the right fish, she knew how to gut and clean a carcass, and she knew how to determine what the best parts of an animal were - and it was those things she wanted to pass on to her children more than just weapons training and hand-to-hand combat practice. She'd have plenty of opportunities for the latter two things, after all.

Heading back towards her and Piper's room, she knocked gently on the door. "Hey, Pipes? You decent in there?"

"As much as I can be," Piper replied. "Come on in." When Rachel had closed the door behind her, Piper finished pulling her t-shirt down over her pale stomach and continued "So what did Preston have to say?"

Rachel took a deep breath. "The Children of Atom are on the move," she said. "Preston thinks they're massing for war."

The colour drained from Piper's face almost instantly and she covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, God."

"That's what I thought you might say. I need to go visit Elder Maxson at the airport - maybe we can shut this down before anybody gets seriously hurt."

"Still optimistic, even after all this time?" Piper said, one corner of her mouth tugging itself upwards in spite of the gravity of the situation. She brushed one hand briefly against Rachel's cheek, her almost imperceptibly-soft touch making Rachel's skin tingle. "That's my Blue." She paused suddenly, a flash of inspiration crossing her face. "Wait, what about High Confessor Tektus? Shouldn't he be the first person you talk to?"

"Confessor Tektus is next on the list," Rachel assured her. "I need to make sure the giant robot at Boston Airport doesn't go stomping across the Commonwealth again first."

Piper raised her eyebrows. "Good point." She aimed a thumb at the door. "I'll leave you to get ready. Come find me when you want to head out, okay?"

Rachel smiled. "I'll see you in a little while, Pipes. We'll save the day together, I promise."

Piper smiled briefly in response, then turned on her heel and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. When Rachel was sure Piper was gone, she crossed the room to the closet and unhooked her Brotherhood uniform from its hanger. Stripping down to her underwear she rubbed the Brotherhood tattoo on her shoulder briefly, like it was some kind of talisman, before she put on the uniform and zipped it closed. Reaching into the closet again she picked up her black military cap and placed it squarely on her head at just the right angle, and then she reached onto another shelf and closed her hand around a small box. She drew it out of the closet and opened it. Inside was a small engagement ring that she had managed to scavenge from the body of a dead raider months ago - luckily the raider had been vain enough to leave the jewels in place rather than pawning them for chems or alcohol, so the ring was still relatively intact. She'd been wanting to find the right moment to get down on one knee for Piper for a while, but she had never quite worked up the courage to make the moment happen. Often she wondered how Nate had managed to be brave enough to do the same for her back when he was barely out of his teens (or so it seemed at the time, considering how babyfaced he'd been before the war), and it confounded her every single time - but at the same time it gave her the incentive to keep trying, because Piper was the person she'd been waiting for ever since she had crawled out of her icebox two years beforehand.

 _Guess I'll have to wait a little longer,_ she thought bitterly, before she closed the box, put it in her pocket and walked out of her bedroom. _Time to go to war._


	2. Cry Havoc

The _Prydwen_ 's massive bulk never failed to make the hairs on the back of Rachel's neck stand on end, even though she had been aboard the mighty airship so many times before. Its intimidating presence above Boston airport had been muted somewhat by the addition of Liberty Prime, of course, but the ship nevertheless still effectively represented the mailed fist of the Brotherhood forces in the Commonwealth. She sat back in the seat of the Vertibird carrying her and Piper towards it, trying to block out the sound of the door gunner ruthlessly wiping out a stray pack of feral ghouls before they wandered too close to the airport entrance. It was necessary for the safety of her brothers and sisters, she knew, but that didn't make it any easier to endure within the tight confines of the ship, even with the added protection of the noise-dampening hardware built into the helmet of her power armour.

She was glad when the gunfire finally stopped and the Vertibird began its final approach towards the _Prydwen_ 's flight deck. When the ship had secured itself into its moorings, she hopped out as quickly as she could, her ears still ringing momentarily. "Welcome aboard, ma'am," one of the flight crew said respectfully as she thumped her chest in salute and then snapped to attention. "Elder Maxson is waiting for you."

"Thank you, soldier," Rachel replied, returning the crew member's salute automatically. "Carry on."

"Yes, ma'am - thank you, ma'am," the woman said, before grabbing her tools and scurrying towards the docked Vertibird's tail section.

When the woman was out of earshot, Piper said "You really do enjoy being in charge, don't you?"

"Being able to tell people what to do does have its benefits sometimes, it's true," Rachel chuckled. "Come on, we have a meeting to get to - don't want to keep Maxson waiting any longer than he already has…"

As usual, they found Elder Maxson standing in the forward section of the command deck, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he looked out over the Commonwealth. When he heard them approach, he turned his head slightly so that he was glancing at them through the corner of his right eye, the jagged scar that bisected that side of his face just about visible. "Sentinel," he said respectfully, before he turned around fully and met Rachel's gaze head-on as he saluted her. "I would say it's a pleasure to see you, but Lancer-Captain Kells informs me that this is not a social visit. You have intelligence that needs to be brought to my attention, correct?"

"Yes, Elder," Rachel replied, after returning his salute. "My Minutemen have uncovered evidence that the Children of Atom could be preparing for a large-scale invasion of the Commonwealth - they destroyed at least three settlements to the north and didn't leave anything useful behind, including the settlers. My lieutenant has all of his men on high alert and they're ready to assist us if necessary."

Maxson snorted derisively. "You know as well as I do that those men would be no help whatsoever without extensive radiation-shielding - you've seen first-hand the effect the Children's weaponry has on unprotected human flesh, as have I." He drew up the right sleeve of his battle-coat to reveal a large, puckered scar covering almost his entire forearm. "The skin boiled right down to the bone. If I had not had a field medic at my side, I would probably have lost the arm there and then." He closed his eyes, dropped his chin to his chest and exhaled through his nose. "I appreciate your Minutemen's enthusiasm, Sentinel, but I would prefer this to be a Brotherhood operation with minimal militia involvement, if any."

"Yes, Elder," Rachel said, secretly relieved. "I have an alternative strategy I'd like to try."

Maxson looked up, raising an eyebrow. "An alternative strategy? Explain."

"I have connections to a chapter of the Children in the north, on an island called Far Harbor. They see me as some kind of chosen one because I brought one of their holiest relics back to them, and I think - I hope - I might be able to use that leverage to get them to tell me what's happening here. If I can get a decent picture of what's going on, maybe I can stop this before it goes any further."

"They also think I'm a prophet of Atom," Piper added. "Long story." She waved her hand in the air briefly, as if that was all the explanation she was willing to offer. "If I can convince them I've had another vision of 'Atom's will'," she said, making quote marks in the air with her fingers, "maybe I can help make them back off. You know how much they value messages from their god."

The Elder narrowed his eyes. "What did I just say, civilian?" he snapped, irritated. "This is Brotherhood business, not yours."

"Oh, stick it up your ass, Maxson!" Piper spat back, suddenly tired of Maxson's dismissive tone. "You need me!"

"I can assure you, Miss Wright, that I do not," Maxson said in a low, unnervingly-calm voice. "Do not make the mistake of thinking you have any right to question the way I command my troops, purely because of who you associate yourself with." He moved closer to Piper and jabbed his finger directly into the centre of her sternum. "This operation will need to be executed as precisely as possible, and I will not allow it to be jeopardised by a single reporter from Diamond City."

"Why?" Piper cried, her face still bright red with anger as she swatted Maxson's hand away. "Scared that one woman could achieve something you and all your knights couldn't?"

" _Enough!_ " Maxson slammed his clenched fist into the nearest bulkhead, visibly wincing as he withdrew his hand from the wall. "Sentinel Adams, be so kind as to remove your… friend… from the bridge, before I do something we would both regret very much."

"He's right, Piper," Rachel said, sensing a way to end the hostility before it got any worse. "Maybe it'd be best if you waited for me in my quarters. I won't be long, I promise."

"No," Piper insisted, still staring daggers at Maxson. "No, I'm not going anywhere, Blue."

"Yes, you are," Rachel said, and gestured at the two knights who were standing on guard. "Escort Miss Wright to my private quarters, and then stand guard outside the door so you can make sure she doesn't leave until I join her."

"Yes, Sentinel!" the knights barked in unison, before they hooked their arms around Piper's elbows and began hauling her away despite her best efforts to stop them. Defiant to the end, Piper thrashed and kicked and cast graphic aspersions on the knights' families all the way to the access hatch that led down to the habitation deck.

When the echoes of Piper's obscenity-laced screams had finally faded, Maxson rubbed the bridge of his nose with the thumb and forefinger of his gloved right hand, turned to Rachel and said in an exasperated tone "Why do you continue to insist on bringing that girl aboard this ship, Sentinel? I recognise that you and she are involved, but that does not mean she needs to be party to everything you do as a member of the Brotherhood."

"With respect, Elder," Rachel began, "Piper has been a valuable ally to us for almost two years. She's provided me with vital intelligence more than once, and I trust her with my life."

"I have no doubt about that," Maxson agreed, "but Miss Wright has repeatedly demonstrated that she has no respect for discipline or the chain of command. Why is she so essential for this mission?"

"Because what she said was true - her experience with the Children of Atom will be invaluable. I'd be far more likely to get some answers from them with her by my side than I would with an entire detachment of Brotherhood soldiers. She's achieved more with her words than she ever has with a laser rifle and power armour."

Maxson was silent for a moment. "Do you know why I promoted you to Sentinel after we destroyed the Institute, sister?"

Surprised, all Rachel could do was say "Is this a trick question, Elder?"

"Not at all," Maxson replied. "I gave you that rank because I trusted you implicitly. I trusted your bravery in combat and I trusted your ability to inspire others to follow you. And now, since I can clearly see that I will not be able to convince you otherwise, I will trust your judgement regarding Miss Wright."

"Thank you, Elder," Rachel said, relieved.

"Don't thank me yet," Maxson told her sharply. "If you do decide to take Miss Wright with you, understand that she will be your responsibility, and yours alone. The Brotherhood has bigger concerns than one single civilian. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Elder."

"Good. Dismissed, Sentinel," Maxson said, before saluting her. "Ad victoriam."

"Ad victoriam, Elder." Rachel's armoured fist clanged loudly against her chest-plate as she returned the salute, and then she turned smartly on her heel and marched off the bridge, making her way directly towards the access hatch and from there to her private quarters. When she arrived there, the two knights standing guard snapped to attention immediately, holding their rifles smartly across their chests. "At ease, gentlemen," she said, and they relaxed accordingly. "I trust Piper hasn't given you any trouble?"

"A couple insults, but not much more than that," one of the knights replied. "Nothing we couldn't handle."

 _Well, that's certainly a first,_ Rachel thought wryly. "You're dismissed, then - I won't be needing your help anymore this evening. Return to the bridge."

When the knights had departed, Rachel tapped her personal access code into the terminal beside the door and then stepped through. As the door automatically closed behind her, she faced the closest wall and then tripped the internal switch in her right gauntlet that allowed her to exit her armour, feeling its plates loosen around her as its body-hugging frame unlatched itself with a pneumatic hiss. Rachel felt a slight rush as the atmosphere touched her skin again for the first time in what seemed like years - even the recycled air of the _Prydwen_ smelled as sweet as roses after being cocooned in her metal shell for so long.

She barely had time to enjoy more than two breaths of it, however, before Piper grabbed her shoulder, spun her around and started screaming at her. "What the hell was that?" she yelled. "He threatened me, Blue! Why did you take his side?"

"Because I didn't want to make the situation worse for no reason," Rachel said calmly. "Besides, when you've been around Maxson as much as I have, you start to realise that he's a showman as much as he is a leader, more often than he likes to let on."

Piper looked at Rachel in disbelief. "So? What if he wasn't putting on a show just now?"

"Then I would have tried to stop him, however I could," Rachel replied. "I can read Maxson pretty accurately at this point, though, and this was definitely one of the times when he was just keeping up appearances. He doesn't personally resort to physical aggression towards unarmed civilians very often, but when he does it's usually only because he just wants to rattle his sabre and make you feel like you shouldn't dare to overstep your bounds." She half-smiled despite herself. "Did he succeed?"

"Hell no," Piper retorted with a derisive snort, the ghost of a smile crossing her lips for a second or two. "It'll take more than a big facial scar and a bad haircut to scare Diamond City's most intrepid reporter. Haven't you learned _anything_ about me yet?"

"That's what I thought you'd say," Rachel said, moving forward and encircling Piper's waist with her arms. Even though she was almost a full head taller and significantly more muscular than the slender, compact journalist, she still sometimes felt completely dwarfed by Piper's sheer heart and courage - in fact, she was sure that if bravery and determination alone could be weaponised, her girlfriend would undoubtedly be the most heavily-armed person in the entire Commonwealth. "Don't ever change."

"Not planning on doing that any time soon," Piper said, resting her head against Rachel's shoulder. "Just so we're clear, though: I'm still going to punch that man in the face one day."

Rachel burst out laughing. "Better get in line quickly, then - I don't think there's one member of the Brotherhood who _wouldn't_ punch the Elder in the face if they got the chance." She paused, raising her eyebrows for a moment. "Of course I don't think there's one member of the Brotherhood who wouldn't hesitate to take a bullet for him, either, so I guess he must be doing something right."

"I guess so," Piper said, thoughtfully. "Just don't ask me to try and find out what that something is - that'd mean talking to him for longer than ten minutes at a time, and there are some things even _I_ won't do for a story, you know?"

"Well, there's something I never expected to hear come out of ace reporter Piper Wright's mouth," Rachel replied, tapping her chin with a single fingertip. "I guess that's my surprise for the day, huh?"

"Looks like it," Piper agreed with a wry smile, before she glanced at the softly-ticking clock on the wall. "Hey, look - it's getting pretty late. Maybe we should try to get some sleep?"

"Sounds like a plan," Rachel said, "unless you wanted to, I don't know… keep the neighbours awake for a while?" She traced Piper's jaw delicately with her fingertips for a moment before tilting her girlfriend's chin up and gently pressing her lips against the other woman's mouth, feeling Piper's body wilting against her momentarily before she suddenly stiffened and pulled away reflexively, her eyes wide as saucers.

"What the hell are you doing, Blue?" she asked, incredulous. "We could get into a lot of trouble here!"

"You're acting like this is the first time we've done something like this," Rachel laughed. "Besides, I thought you lived for danger, little miss reporter? Are you chickening out on me?"

"You know it's not that I don't _want_ to," Piper said as she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, "but, well, I mean… you're a Sentinel now. Doesn't that mean you're supposed to be setting an example here?"

"Technically, yes," Rachel said, shrugging, "but I also don't have to answer to anybody except Maxson, either, so there's that." She traced the line of Piper's jaw with her fingers, trailing them down the other woman's neck gently. "That means that we can break the rules," she whispered directly into Piper's ear, "just you and me, here and now."

"Are you sure -" Piper began hesitantly, before Rachel covered her mouth with her own, stifling her half-hearted protests.

"Yes," Rachel murmured, nipping at Piper's neck with her teeth, "I'm sure. Are you?"

"Yes, I'm - oh, God," Piper said, her fingers reflexively clenching tightly into Rachel's body.

"Then what's stopping us?"

Piper had no answer.

The two of them lay naked on the floor, tangled in each other's arms, sweaty and exhausted. Piper was reaching up to stroke Rachel's cheek with the palm of her right hand, and Rachel had her arms curled around the smaller woman's body. "So how does breaking rules feel?" Rachel said softly into Piper's ear.

"Like a Nuka-Cola Quantum after a month in the Glowing Sea," Piper said, laughing and drumming her fingertips across Rachel's skin a little more vigorously. "We should do it more often."

Rachel chuckled. "I guess this would be a bad time to tell you nobody would have been able to tell what we were doing, then?"

Piper sat bolt-upright almost instantly. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked, incredulous. "What do you mean 'nobody would have been able to tell'?"

"After we helped Danse escape the Brotherhood and I got given his private quarters," Rachel began, "I had Proctor Quinlan scavenge up the best soundproofing his scribes could find for me, and then had them install it into the walls during the times I was away on missions."

"So you mean… nobody could hear us?"

"Not a soul. You could almost set off a nuke in here and nobody would be any the wiser."

Piper frowned. "So what was all that talk about breaking the rules?"

"Oh, that? That was me doing my best to sweet-talk you out of your panties, honey," Rachel purred, with a smile.

"You know, you're kind of an asshole sometimes, Blue, you know that?" Piper said in a sour tone, clearly struggling to maintain an angry appearance despite herself.

"Not going to deny that," Rachel agreed, "but it worked, didn't it? I thought it'd be a little more exciting if you thought it wasn't exactly… legal."

"You're lucky I love you, Blue," Piper said. "Anyone else would be dead right about now."

"I don't doubt it," Rachel said, as she glanced at the clock and pushed herself to her feet. "Now, I really think we should get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow…"


	3. Fire Support

They made it as far as the East Boston police station before they ran into trouble. Rachel thought that had to be some kind of record, and immediately regretted leaving her armour in her quarters on the _Prydwen_.

"Hey, ladies," the raider said through yellow, broken teeth. "Just passing through? Gotta pay the toll." He and his gang were blocking the street and had their crude, haphazardly-constructed weapons firmly levelled towards Rachel and Piper. All of them reeked of alcohol and chems, and Rachel thought at least one of them was high on something considerably strong right at that very moment – most likely Psycho, considering the way she was muttering nonsensically to herself through cracked, spittle-caked lips. Of course, she might just have been plain crazy – after all, from what Rachel had been able to discern, raiders weren't too picky about who they let into their little fraternities, so long as they could swing a blade or pull a trigger. She had long since decided it was part of their questionable charm.

"And what toll is that?" she asked, folding her arms and doing her best not to obey her instinct to pull her own gun as the raider stalked closer towards her, the individual pieces of his jagged, makeshift armour jangling noisily against one another as he moved. He ended up directly in front of her and then grinned, his dirty teeth looking even more disgusting up close.

"The 'pay the nice raiders two hundred caps each or bad things start to happen' toll," he sneered. "So you better pay up, or bad things really will start to happen. Maybe we'll start with your little friend?" He gestured to another member of his gang, who levelled his rifle directly at Piper's stomach.

"I'm warning you –" Rachel began, beginning to move forwards before the raider leader raised his pistol and pointed it directly at her face, his thumb easing back the weapon's hammer with an audible click.

"Ah-ah-ah – mind your manners, honey," he chided, wagging a grimy finger at her. "Either you pay up now, or you wind up cleanin' her guts off the street and still have to pay up later anyway."

"You're making a big mistake, you know that?" Rachel said, not flinching as the raider leader stepped forward and pressed the muzzle of his weapon against her throat.

"Is that so?" he said with a smirk. "Mind telling me what I'm doing wrong?"

Rachel smiled thinly. "You didn't look down first."

Confused, the raider reflexively dropped his gaze, the barrel of his gun lifting itself from Rachel's skin as he did so. The instant he broke eye contact, Rachel swiftly grabbed the Ripper chain-dagger she had tucked at the rear of her belt, thumbed the activation switch and jammed it through a gap in the uneven plates of his armour, all in one fluid motion. The dagger's whirring teeth chewed hungrily through his gut, gouts of blood and chunks of shredded meat spewing over Rachel's gloved fingers before she tore the blade free with a wet, sticky slurp. The raider stumbled a few steps to his left, crimson-flecked spittle dribbling off his chin as his mouth tried vainly to form words. Then his legs buckled and he collapsed in an awkward heap, his hands still clasped over his ruined belly.

For a few precious seconds, the other three raiders froze at the sight of their leader's mangled body, expressions of utter horror crossing their scarred faces – even the Psycho-addled maniac looked stunned. Piper used their momentary shock to shift inside the reach of the man pointing his gun at her, knocking his weapon aside and jamming her own pistol under his chin before she pulled the trigger. Instantaneously the top of his head disintegrated, bone fragments and brain matter spraying upwards and outwards as he fell flat on his back, his gun slipping free from limp, unresponsive fingers and clattering to the ground. As the two surviving gang members finally started shaking off their collective shock, Rachel was already moving towards the woman on Psycho, slashing at her bare midriff with the Ripper. The woman yelped and dodged the swing before dragging a weapon of her own from its sheath, an uneven shard of rusty metal bound only with a few frayed strips of brahmin leather.

"Gonna kill you!" she screamed, her unnaturally widened eyes accentuated even more by the stripes of dark paint smeared across the upper half of her face. " _Gonna fucking kill you!_ " Darting forwards, she swung the makeshift blade down in a wild, uncontrolled arc. Unfazed, Rachel jinked swiftly aside and let the woman's own momentum unbalance her, before she slammed her foot into the side of the woman's knee and sent her sprawling to the ground, the impact of her skinny body kicking up a puff of fine dust. Before Rachel could close the gap between them, though, the woman scrambled desperately to her feet, spitting out a glob of thick drool. Then she let out a guttural, wordless snarl and surged toward Rachel, lashing out with her weapon again. Smoothly, Rachel parried the uncontrolled blow, sparks flying where the screeching teeth of her chain-blade clashed with the coarse edges of the metal spike, twisting it out of the raider's hand and sending it spinning away across the street.

As the weapon skidded to a halt, Rachel threw her own Ripper to the ground and balled her fists. She advanced on the woman quickly, ducking under an uncoordinated punch and landing a single crunching blow in the centre of the raider's face. The heavy steel studs mounted on the knuckles of Rachel's leather glove bit deep, crumpling the woman's nose to paste under their impact, and Rachel used her momentary disorientation to grab her right arm with both hands. Quickly, she executed a standard Brotherhood hold-and-throw technique that Paladin Brandis had taught her shortly after his arrival on the _Prydwen_ , and as she twisted on the ball of her foot and heaved the woman over her body, she felt the arm she was holding snap neatly in at least two places, just as it was supposed to. The woman let out an agonised howl as she landed heavily on the cracked sidewalk, a loud, squelching pop indicating that her shoulder had been abruptly dislocated.

In disbelief, Rachel watched as the raider somehow managed to wobble upright, pushing herself to her feet with a single hand. Her other arm hung limply, one of the bones in her forearm visibly protruding through the skin, and her breathing was wet and laboured, but she still raised her one working arm and clenched her fist. She clearly had no intention of giving in any time soon.

 _All right,_ Rachel thought sourly. _Time to finish this._

Pivoting on the point of one foot, she hammered her booted heel directly into the woman's gut and then tackled her around the waist, taking them both to the ground again. "Stay down!" she snarled in frustration as she smashed her fists into the raider's face one after the other. The woman coughed out a mouthful of blood containing two teeth and then, mercifully, went limp, a small sigh escaping her swollen lips as she sank into unconsciousness.

"Blue?" came a voice, slightly shaky but still strong. "You okay?"

Rachel turned her head quickly and saw Piper standing a few metres away from her, cradling her left arm close to her chest. She had lost her cap and the area around her right eye was purple and swollen, but otherwise she seemed intact.

"Me? What about you?"

"I'm fine," Piper said, gesturing at her face. "This is nothing. You should see the other guy." She pointed the thumb of her good hand behind her, to where the body of the raider who had attacked her lay in a heap, unmoving but still breathing. "He got in a few good hits, but then I kicked him right where he didn't want to be kicked, and he went down like a sack of tatos. After that it was pretty much game over." She turned her head slightly and called back to the man on the ground. "Isn't that right, asshole?" The raider simply let out a strangled groan, which brought a satisfied smile to Piper's bruised face. "See? That's what I'm talking about."

"Stop with the grandstanding, Pipes," Rachel chided her, stepping closer and brushing Piper's hair out of her face. "Your arm looks like it's in bad shape – let me help you with that." She dug into her pocket and brought out a stimpak, taking a step towards Piper, who shook her head and pushed Rachel's hand away.

"Don't waste that. Just give me half an hour to stretch it out and I'll be right as rain, I promise." She sighed, clenching her left hand a couple of times to try to bring some life back to it as quickly as possible. Rachel saw the corners of her mouth twisting in pain slightly, no matter how much she tried to hide it, but then she took a deep breath and let her hand drop down to her side again. "Look, if you're really worried, I'll get Doctor Sun to take a look at it the next time we go back to Diamond City."

"That's not exactly what I meant," Rachel said, pursing her lips, "but I guess it'll have to do for now." She paused, gesturing at the fallen raiders. "We'd better get moving. Don't want to run into more of these guys right now, after all."

"Good plan," Piper agreed. "Just let me get my cap first…"

It was almost nightfall when they took shelter in a ruined building. A rad-storm was blowing in from the north, sickly green clouds blocking out the moonlight as poisonous rain started hammering the ground, some of the droplets leaving tiny, sizzling dents in the cracked sidewalk. Not wanting to take any chances, Rachel popped open a bottle of Rad-X as soon as she heard her Pip-Boy's Geiger counter start to chatter angrily, passing one of the angular pills to Piper after she had taken one for herself.

Piper swallowed the pill with a mouthful of purified water, and then took a deep breath. "Blue?" she said. "Can I ask you something?"

"You know you can," Rachel said, suddenly intrigued. "What's on your mind?"

"Do you really think we can do this? Stop a war?"

"We stopped the Institute, didn't we?" Rachel replied, summoning the smallest hint of a smile. "This can't be too different to that, right?"

"That was a completely different situation and you know it," Piper said sharply. "Don't bullshit me here."

"Okay, no bullshit," Rachel said, rubbing her face with her gloved hands. "Honestly, right now I haven't got a clue. You've dealt with the Children of Atom more than I have – you know they're not like those raiders we ran into earlier. They're not fighting for caps, or for food, or for treasure, they're fighting for an _idea_ , and that's the hardest thing there is to beat. So no, I don't know if we can do this." She paused, taking a deep breath. "What I _do_ know is that I'm sure as hell going to try, because I have too much to lose if I don't: Sanctuary, Shaun, Nat… you. I lost my world once and I'll be damned if I lose this new one as well. I have to try."

She paused, but before she could begin speaking again, Piper was kissing her, cupping her face in both hands and taking her breath away, leaving her light-headed. "Not just you," Piper said as she broke the kiss. She leaned forwards so that their foreheads were touching, and then reached down and intertwined her fingers with Rachel's delicately. "Us. We'll try together." She smiled. "You're my world too, you know – where you go, I go."

"Well, as far as motivations go, that's a pretty good one," Rachel said, returning Piper's smile with a relieved grin. Suddenly she became acutely aware of the small box in the inner pocket of her jacket, knowing that this would be both a perfect and an insanely stupid moment to show Piper its contents. Her fingers twitched slightly in Piper's grip as she struggled against the impulse to reach for it.

She was almost relieved when she heard the rumble of gunfire and the yells of Gunners and raiders in the distance. _Not yet,_ she thought as she and Piper got quickly to their feet, weapons drawn and ready _._

 _Not yet._


	4. Chewed Up And Spat Out

Far Harbor was nothing more than a husk, a burnt-out wreck. That much had become clear even before Rachel and Piper had dropped anchor – the smoke from the still-smouldering buildings had been visible from a significant distance away, curling and twisting westwards in the coastal breeze. Before they could disembark onto the dock, though, they were stopped by two gaunt figures dressed in tattered robes that reeked of sweat and motor oil, their shaven heads caked with dirt and grease.

"Hold!" one of them exclaimed, pointing her radiation rifle at Rachel. "State your business or leave now, heretic."

Rachel raised her hands, palms forward. "Easy, sister," she said, keeping her voice calm. "Don't you recognise me? I'm a Child of Atom too. The Mother of the Fog chose me as Her emissary."

The girl raised a patchy eyebrow, then squinted, clearly trying to remember Rachel's significance. Abruptly her eyes widened in shock as she realised just who it was she was looking at, and she immediately lowered her weapon and dropped to her knees in reverence, her head bowed. "Oh, Atom above," she whispered, her words tinged with regret and fear. "I didn't mean to threaten you, Emissary, I swear. Please forgive me."

"It's all right, sister," Rachel said, laying her hand gently on the girl's paint-covered scalp and then motioning for her to get to her feet. "You don't have to kneel to me. Only Atom deserves that honour."

"Thank you, Emissary," the girl whispered as she rose to her full height again. "Glory to Atom."

"And all He touches," Rachel replied, nodding. "You do Him proud with your devotion, sister."

"Thank you, Emissary," the girl said again, still a little reluctant to look her directly in the eye. Then she noticed Piper standing behind her and said "Who is this? Did you bring us a new convert?"

"Piper was a member of our family before, but she lost her faith and left us," Rachel explained. "She saw the light and knelt before me while I was away preaching our gospel. After we talked, she agreed to come and re-join us here."

"That's… that's right," Piper said, quickly realising she had to play along. "Atom appeared to me in a vision and told me to – to seek His grace anew."

"You had a vision of Atom Himself? Truly you are blessed," the girl said in wide-eyed awe. "What did He look like?"

"Look like?" Piper repeated, suddenly looking completely flustered. "He, ah… He looked like a man made of green fire. I couldn't see His face, but when He reached out and took my hand in His, I felt His power burn right through me and I knew I had to be His again, forever." She paused, spreading her hands out to either side. "So here I am, ready to serve Him again."

The girl grinned broadly, obviously overjoyed to hear that a member of the Church had returned home. "Then we welcome you back, sister." She turned to the other robed guard and said "Send word to the High Confessor that the Emissary of the Mother has returned." The man nodded silently before turning on his heel and swiftly making his way up the dock's rickety staircase, towards the path out of the harbour. When he had disappeared, the girl said ""What can we do for you now, Emissary?"

"Wouldn't mind an explanation of what's happening here," Rachel said bluntly as she gestured towards the ruins of the harbour. "What exactly have you done to this place? Where are all the people?"

"The High Confessor had a… revelation," the girl replied. "Grand Zealot Richter says he was guarding Tektus while he was praying, and he saw him fall to the ground, speaking in a strange language nobody understood. When he woke, he said that he had received a message from Atom that we needed to do more to bring others closer to Him."

"By killing them?!" Piper said, disbelief dripping from every word. Rachel was surprised she hadn't punched the zealot in the face yet. "How does that help?"

The girl shook her head emphatically, looking a little pained. "We didn't kill anyone. We simply destroyed their blasphemous condensers and let Atom's holy fog do the rest. Some of the unbelievers stayed to fight, but most of them fled to the sea or to the south. The ones who stayed we took back to the Nucleus once they'd run out of bullets." She paused. "There they will learn their place in Atom's plans. Isn't that what we all want to know, in the end?"

"I suppose so," Rachel said, seeing that she wasn't going to get any real answers from the woman while she was lost in adoration. She decided to change the subject. "Why don't we get off this dock? I'm pretty sure I saw a rad-storm following us inland, and I really don't want to be caught in it."

"As you wish, Emissary," the girl replied, bowing her head slightly. "We have plenty of food and water if you need it. Follow me, if you please…"

The centre of the dock was now taken up with a large bonfire, composed largely of barnacle-encrusted timbers, old nets and smashed furniture. Several wooden spits had been set up across it, but only one was in use right now, its length covered in greasy, unevenly-sliced meats from various animals. Some of the rawer cuts even glowed a vivid, sickly green, suggesting that they had been taken from severely irradiated individuals. Rachel wondered if perhaps the Children thought they were totems of some sort – and if they were, whether they thought partaking of the meat would grant them the same abilities as the animal it had been taken from. She hoped there was no truth in that kind of belief.

She took a large mouthful out of a ragged chunk of what she hoped was roasted mole-rat, which was garnished with what looked like crumbled hubflower blossoms. It was chewy, spicy and a little too crispy on the outside, but overall it wasn't half bad, which was a surprise in itself – the last time she had sampled some of the Children of Atom's favourite "delicacies", she had felt sick for a week afterwards. She swallowed it, and then found the girl, who she had learned was named Sister Emily, looking at her with a wide-eyed expression of hesitant anticipation. "How is it, Emissary?" she said, clasping her hands together with visible nervousness. "Do you like it?"

"It's very good," Rachel said, truthfully. "Thank you for making it, sister." She finished the last few bites of the meat quickly, if only because she was ravenous after going several days without partaking of something even just a little more substantial than Piper's seemingly-inexhaustible supply of chewy, irradiated gum drops and lukewarm Nuka-Cola. She put the meat's skewer down onto the cracked plate the girl had given her, and then leaned forward, deciding to cut to the chase as quickly as she could. "So, can you tell me more about Tektus' vision? Are we going to spread the word of Atom to the whole country?"

"That and more," Sister Emily replied, looking visibly energised. "The High Confessor wants to give all humanity the kind of glow only Atom knows. Some of us volunteered, but we need more converts to make this divine mission work."

"What divine mission? What are you talking about?" Piper demanded. Rachel saw her knuckles whiten as her grip tightened on the skewer in her hand, as if she was about to jam it through the girl's neck. She gently laid her hand on Piper's arm to keep her from losing her restraint, and Piper reluctantly relaxed, while still looking silently furious.

"The High Confessor wants more of the holy ones that live here on the island," the zealot replied. "They're full of the glow, inside and out, and the Confessor wants to use them for our cause."

"You mean ghouls?" Piper asked, sounding dumbfounded. "Why?"

"Don't call them that," Sister Emily snapped indignantly. "They're closer to the power of Atom than any of us. His blessings run through their veins."

"Of course they do," Rachel began, "but how does the Confessor think he can share them?"

"Transformation," the girl said. "Tektus says that Division won't happen without it. We're just trying to reach the lost first. What better way to show the unbelievers that Atom's path is the only salvation?" She pushed herself to her feet and gestured towards what had once been the Last Plank. The building had had all of its exterior decoration stripped from it so that it was bare and featureless, aside from the emblem of the Church of Atom which had been crudely daubed onto the windows in white paint. "I'm late for Father Elias' evening prayer session. Will you join us?"

"I'd be honoured," Rachel said, and began to get to her feet before Piper abruptly grasped her hand and prevented her from following. She glanced back and saw Piper shaking her head almost imperceptibly, her eyes filled with urgency. "I'll be with you in a minute, sister," she called over her shoulder. "Go ahead without me." Sister Emily looked disappointed for a moment before she turned away and hurried inside the Last Plank's battered shell, her dirty robes fluttering slightly in the breeze. Rachel kept her head turned to one side in order that she could listen for the sound of the tavern's battered door clicking shut, holding a finger up to keep Piper from speaking. When she was satisfied that the zealot was suitably out of earshot, she lowered her finger, returned her gaze to Piper and said "Make this quick, Pipes. We can't afford to keep that congregation waiting for long."

"This is insane, Blue!" Piper said without hesitation. "I thought that that Tektus synth was supposed to be _less_ crazy than the real deal?"

"So did I," Rachel said ruefully. "Looks like we might both be wrong. The question is, what could have happened to make him start acting this way?"

"I guess we'll find out soon enough," Piper replied, frowning, and then directed a derisive thumb at the Last Plank. "Sister Looney Tunes and the rest of the kooks in there certainly seem convinced by whatever it is he's selling, though. Must be some strong stuff, whatever it is."

"No argument there," Rachel said, before standing and offering Piper her hand, which Piper took and pulled herself to her feet. "Better keep them all happy for now, though. We both know how pissed these people can get if they don't get what they want."

Piper nodded in silent agreement, and the two of them went into what was left of the Last Plank, immediately feeling the sting of radioactive incense in their eyes and nostrils, the burners hanging from the ceiling spewing glowing green vapour downwards in swirling clouds. It had been scented with dried lureweed and bloodflower blossoms, which gave the former tavern a thick, pungent floral odour that wasn't much better than the thick, pungent odour of stale liquor and cigarettes that had previously filled it. The bar and booths had been torn apart and replaced by a makeshift dais constructed of dismantled chairs and tables which stood at the far end of the room, with a similarly cobbled-together pulpit set on top of it. Behind the pulpit stood who she assumed was Father Elias, who seemed to be a decorated member of the Church, judging by the way his lined face was covered with intricate face paint that depicted a series of concentric circles centred around his right eye. When he heard Rachel and Piper step through the door, the old preacher stopped his sermon as he looked in their direction and said "Emissary? I'd hoped you would join us for this evening – would you like to say a few words? I know they wouldn't go unappreciated."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure about that, father?"

"Of course. The Mother wouldn't have chosen you if She didn't have a good reason," Elias said, with a warm smile. He took a step backwards from his pulpit and held out his hand, inviting Rachel to take his place. "Please, say whatever you would like."

"Well, if you really think this is a good idea, I'll do my best," Rachel said.

 _This is_ not _a good idea,_ she thought as she crossed the room and stood behind the pulpit, leaving Piper standing at the back of the room with her arms folded _. Here goes nothing, though, I guess…_

"Atom chooses His faithful very carefully," she said, every word feeling like molasses in her mouth, "and every one of us is special to Him in some way or another. He chose me to be a messenger to His children, just like He chose all of you to spread His good news to the people who haven't felt His grace. We are all one Church because He calls us, and –"

"Praise Atom!" Sister Emily cried out from the back of the congregation, her voice wild and joyful.

"Be _silent_ , child!" Elias snapped in an exasperated tone. "Show some restraint!"

"No, it's all right, father – she can speak if she wants to," Rachel said, holding out her hand toward him, palm downwards. "Sister, would you come up here, please?" She beckoned the girl closer with her other hand while still indicating the old preacher should remain quiet, and Sister Emily slowly got to her feet, uncertainty etched all over her painted face. Nervously, she shuffled closer to the pulpit, clutching her hands together as her gaze flickered to and fro across the four rows of kneeling disciples, who were all regarding her with various looks of scorn, pity or irritation. Clearly she was not well-regarded by at least some of the faithful, and Rachel instantly worried that she had perhaps made a mistake by singling her out. She decided she had better try to fix that if she could. "Don't be shy, sister. Atom welcomes all." When Sister Emily had finally made it up to the pulpit, Rachel stepped down and moved to stand beside her. "What do you see when you look at this girl?" she asked.

"Trouble," Elias said, glaring at Sister Emily, who squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "Nothing but trouble!"

"Why?"

"Because she doesn't do as she's told, or stay quiet when she should stay quiet. She has no respect for our traditions!"

"Sister Emily has shown me nothing _but_ respect since I got here, father," Rachel stated, stepping in front of the smaller girl in order to shield her from Elias' wrath, "and didn't you hear what I just said about every one of us being special to Atom in our own way? Maybe your traditions could stand to be just a little bit more flexible." She turned away from the old man, towards the assembled worshippers. "I'm proud to call this girl my sister in Atom, and I want each of you to think very carefully about how you treat her. When she's sick, do you help her? When she's sad, do you comfort her? When she's happy, do you laugh with her? If the answer to all of those things is 'yes', then you should treat her as part of your family, no matter what she does. If the answer to even one of those things is 'no', then you have no right to criticise her." She looked back at the preacher. "Someone much wiser than me once said 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone'. If you want to throw stones at my sister, father, you'd better be damned sure to be flawless yourself first. Do I make myself clear?"

Stunned, all Elias could do was nod and murmur "Yes, Emissary," in a humbled tone.

"Good," Rachel said, her voice clipped, before turning, taking Sister Emily's cheeks between her two gloved palms and kissing her delicately on the forehead. "You can worship Atom however you like, sister. He knows your devotion, and so do I."

"Thank… thank you, Emissary," Sister Emily whispered, her eyes going saucer-wide with wonder.

Rachel smiled. "You're welcome," she replied. "Just don't make me regret it."

"I won't let you down," the girl said breathlessly, her words almost visibly catching in her throat. "I promise I won't."

"I know you won't," Rachel answered, "but I think we've disrupted this service enough." She glanced at the old preacher and pointed towards the ceiling. "Is the room upstairs free, father?"

"I'm using it at the moment," the old man said, looking slightly taken aback. "What do you need it for?"

"I'd like to pray in private with Sister Emily, and Piper and I will need somewhere to sleep before we leave for the _Nucleus_ in the morning," Rachel said matter-of-factly. "You can have the room back when we're gone."

"As you wish, Emissary," Elias said, looking decidedly dismayed. "I'll sleep down here tonight."

"Thank you. I'll make sure the High Confessor knows about this hospitality, father." Rachel moved away from Elias then, taking Sister Emily's hand and moving towards the bar's staircase. As she did so she beckoned Piper to follow her, and the three women headed upstairs, leaving the rest of the congregation to finish their hymns without them.

The bedroom itself was a little cramped, but Rachel decided it would have to do. Positioning herself in the middle on the bed she invited Piper to sit to her right and Sister Emily to sit to her left, before she clasped their hands in her own, closed her eyes and began reciting a prayer in a solemn tone. "Atom above," she began, "take this moment to hear us, and shine upon us. We give thanks for Your glory and beg for Your guidance in this, our time of need. Show us the way and save us from ourselves, until Holy Division comes. Praise be to Atom."  
"Praise be to Atom!" Sister Emily echoed fervently. She kept up her enthusiasm almost continuously for the next hour that she spent chanting and praying, and left with a wide smile on her face. When she had finally gone out of earshot, Rachel closed the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes, exhaling heavily and rubbing her palms across her face. Lowering her hands, she saw Piper standing opposite her, arms folded across her chest.

"Well, that was a whole bunch of fun," she said sourly. "What the hell are you doing, Blue? I thought we were here to stop these guys, not join hands and sing around a campfire!"

"This isn't what I wanted to be doing either, but I think it's what needs to be done. We need a friend here, Pipes, and that girl is the best shot we have."

"A friend?" Piper scoffed. "Looks more like you want a disciple to me. I thought you didn't believe in any of this?"

"I don't," Rachel said, "but she does, and so does everybody else who was in that service tonight. You remember what I said about an idea being the hardest thing there is to beat?"

Piper frowned, her eyes narrowing. "What are you planning?"

"An exchange of ideas," Rachel replied simply. "Sister Emily is going to help us change this church forever."


	5. Night Terrors

The fog-crawler had come out of nowhere, shrieking like a banshee as it emerged from the thick pea-soup mist. It had descended upon Rachel, Piper and Sister Emily as if it had dropped from the sky, its glowing red eyes burning with hunger and bloodlust, and Rachel had barely been able to fling herself out of the way of its clawed forelimbs as it began its attack. She dived behind the closest cover she could see, a collapsed, rotten tree trunk still attached to its stump by a few strips of bark, and unslung the radiation rifle that Sister Emily had requisitioned for her from the stockpile of weapons held in Far Harbor. It was a clumsy, haphazard weapon that Rachel had major misgivings about using, considering the patchwork nature of its construction, but right now it was the only thing she had that was even vaguely capable of doing any real damage to the screeching, armoured behemoth bearing down on her.

Before she could pull her weapon's trigger, however, the fog crawler swiped angrily at the tree trunk with one of its massive forearms, the huge talon smashing the decaying wood to pieces and sending worm-infested splinters flying in all directions, before it stormed through the gap it had created, chittering with anticipation as it bore down on Rachel, who could only try to raise her rifle and hopefully fire a couple of shots before the crawler got to her –

– only for the hulking beast to suddenly buck backwards, shrieking in pain and surprise. Glancing around in momentary confusion, Rachel saw Sister Emily standing to the crawler's left, quickly pumping out pulsing green bolts of glowing gamma ray-infused energy from her modified plasma gun, which seared multiple burning grooves into the crawler's midsection. The monster bellowed furiously at the slight girl at least three times smaller than itself, instantly turning away from its original target and rounding on its new prey. "Run, Emissary!" Sister Emily cried as the crawler surged towards her.

 _Sorry, honey, you don't get to be a martyr today,_ Rachel thought as she braced her rifle against her shoulder and squeezed the trigger three times, putting all three glowing green shots into the knee joint of one of the crawler's rear legs, pulping the chitinous armour and causing the monster to stumble, roaring in pain. At that moment Piper opened fire with her faithful ten-millimetre pistol (which she had decided to keep despite Rachel's insistence to the contrary, saying that radioactive weapons weren't really her style), having skirted to the crawler's right while it had been distracted by Sister Emily's initial attack. The hail of hollow-point bullets punched fist-sized holes in the crawler's plated flank, loops of bloody viscera immediately bulging through the ragged gaps. The beast lurched drunkenly sideways, almost tripping over its own legs, before Rachel calmly put a short volley of rounds into the side of its head, pulping its brain and finally bringing it to the ground. Its forelimbs twitched reflexively a couple of times, their massive claws scraping shallow furrows into the muddy ground, and then it lay still.

Rachel barely had time to shoulder her rifle before Sister Emily came rushing up to her, an expression of deep concern on her face. "Emissary? Are you all right? Are you hurt?" she asked, almost frantically.

"I'm fine," Rachel assured her. "Just give me a minute, okay?" She reached around to the rear of her belt, grasped the hilt of her chain-dagger and advanced on the crawler's corpse, before grabbing one of the crawler's awkwardly-splayed legs and beginning to saw at it with the dagger's whirring teeth.

"What are you doing, Emissary?" Sister Emily asked, slightly confused.

"Don't worry, kid, you're in for a treat," Piper laughed as she holstered her gun and then draped an arm over the shorter girl's shoulder. "The Emissary's fried fog-crawler is to die for, believe me…"

Sister Emily devoured the chunks of lightly fried crawler meat as if it was her last meal, sucking the juices from the rich, tender meat off her fingers to make sure that she didn't waste anything. "Atom above, that was good," she breathed, her eyes closed almost in ecstasy. "Where did you learn to cook like that, Emissary?"

"I'd love to say I'm self-taught," Rachel replied with a chuckle, "but I had a lot of help from my mom and my big sister Jenny. They were the best cooks I ever knew – I bet if they were here now you wouldn't even give that fog-crawler a second look."

Sister Emily shook her head abruptly. "No, I wouldn't," she insisted. "You're the Emissary."

"So? Doesn't change the fact that my sister was still a better cook than I am," Rachel said, lightly bumping Sister Emily's shoulder with a loosely-balled fist. "You don't always have to side with me, you know. I guarantee you it wouldn't make Atom angry if you just thought my sister's seafood tasted better than mine, I promise." She smiled, still hoping that she'd eventually be able to get the girl to loosen up a little. "I could still kick her ass when it came to playing Blast Radius, though."

"That's a big old lie and you know it, Blue," Piper said casually, popping a piece of crispy crawler meat into her mouth. "You suck so badly at that game. How many times have Nat and I beaten you now? I've lost count."

"You had to say it, didn't you?" Rachel retorted, rolling her eyes in mock-exasperation. "Couldn't you have at least let me have that?"

"Just reporting what I've seen first-hand," Piper replied in a matter-of-fact tone, smiling mischievously around her food before swigging a mouthful of Nuka-Cola directly from the bottle she'd taken from an inner pocket of her trench-coat. "It's what I do, remember?"

"I don't understand, Emissary," Sister Emily interjected, tilting her head quizzically. "Why do you let this woman talk to you so disrespectfully?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Relax, sister – Piper and I always talk to each other like this. She doesn't mean anything by it. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I couldn't take a few jokes now and again?" She grasped Sister Emily's shoulder with one hand. "Don't worry about it. I can promise you that Piper is just as devoted to Atom as you and I are." She glanced over at Piper. "Isn't that right?"

"Absolutely," Piper said. "Atom told me to follow this woman, so I follow her. She knows I'm not serious."

Sister Emily huffed, still looking a little unconvinced for a moment. "If you think it's all right," she said, looking over at Rachel for confirmation.

"I told you, Piper and I always talk to each other that way – it's no big deal," Rachel stated gently. "You know, we have got to get you to loosen up a little. Maybe I can get my friend Cait to teach you to dance?"

Piper spluttered, almost choking on a sip of her drink. "Wait, Cait can dance? Since when?"

"As far as I know, she started taking lessons from Magnolia in Goodneighbor last year, when she decided that she needed a hobby which didn't involve punching people in the face for money," Rachel replied. "She's pretty good, from what I've seen."

"Really? How come I've never seen her, you know… strutting her stuff?"

"Because she knows what you're like and she doesn't want the whole of Diamond City knowing about it, that's why," Rachel laughed, opening a bottle of water as she did so. "I don't know why it's such a surprise, though; you've seen the way she moves during her fights. Girl's got rhythm."

"Yeah, but dancing and punching someone in the face aren't really the same thing, are they?" Piper retorted.

"Sure they are – they both need you to have great footwork, they both need you be in really good shape, and they both need you to have someone decent to work with," Rachel replied. "The only real difference is that you usually get to keep most of your teeth when you dance." She returned her attention to a very confused-looking Sister Emily. "So does that sound like something you'd be interested in taking up, sister?"

"That sounds like a challenge," the girl answered after a long, thoughtful pause. "Confessor Tektus is always telling us we should challenge ourselves."

Piper pursed her lips, suddenly looking annoyed. "Forget what Confessor Tektus would think, what do _you_ think?"

"I think it sounds like it could be a fun change," Sister Emily replied. "There's not much to do in the _Nucleus_ but pray and meditate. Sometimes I like to ask Zealot Ware to tell me one of his stories about the mainland, though. Those always sound like great adventures." She sighed. "Sometimes I think about asking the High Confessor if he'd let me go preaching the word to the Commonwealth with Brother Joseph for a while, but I don't know if he'd agree to that."

"Brother Joseph? Who's he?" Rachel asked, curiously, wondering whether she'd found another ally without even trying.

"You saw him when you arrived, Emissary," Sister Emily explained. "I met him when I arrived at the _Nucleus_ about five years ago, and we've been best friends ever since. We do everything together."

"Best friends who do everything together?" Rachel pressed. "Nothing more than that?"

Sister Emily blushed, her jaundiced skin turning beet-red in an instant. It was the most genuine emotion Rachel had ever seen from one of the Children. "No," she insisted, almost bashfully. "I mean I hope we'll always be friends, but –"

"But you'd like him to be more than a friend, wouldn't you?" Piper said in an intrigued tone, leaning forwards as if she was trying to catch the scent of a big story.

"I… guess you could call it that," Sister Emily said, a hand going uneasily to the back of her hairless scalp. "It's just – I promised to give myself to Atom, over everything else. I feel so selfish."

"Oh, honey," Rachel began, "Atom doesn't care about that, believe me. If you want to know whether Joseph feels the same about you as you do about him, then ask him. At least you'll have an answer, even if it's not the one you want."

"I'm not sure," Sister Emily said, glancing down into the flames of the camp-fire. "What if he says no? I don't want to drive him away."

"If he's really your friend, he'll understand," Piper reassured her. "If he doesn't, you're better off without him, kiddo… but you have to say something, or it'll eat away at you for years, and I'm pretty sure you don't want that, right?"

 _Words to live by,_ Rachel thought suddenly, feeling the box in her pocket seemingly growing exponentially larger again. _Ask her. Make her see how much you care. What do you have to lose?_ She frowned briefly, forcing her feelings back into hiding again. _No. Not now. Prioritise, for fuck's sake – let this go until the mission is complete. Come on, soldier. Ad victoriam._

It took another ten minutes to convince Sister Emily to act beyond what the Church of Atom had taught her, and even then she only agreed hesitantly before the three women had begun to move again. Now they were close to the _Nucleus_ , the green fumes rising from the submarine base glaringly visible in the evening gloom. As they reached the top of one of the surrounding hills, Sister Emily turned to Rachel and said "Emissary? Miss Piper? May I ask you something?"

"Sure," Rachel said. "What's on your mind?"

"I was just thinking… are you going to be with us a while? And if you are, would you be willing to wear the markings of the Church while you stay with us? I can paint your faces for you if you'd like." She dipped her hand into one of the pockets of her robe and brought out a small lump of worn charcoal. "Only if you agree, though, I don't want to seem like I'm imposing or anything –"

Rachel reached out and clasped Sister Emily's hand. "I'd be honoured, and so would Piper." She glanced over at her companion, who looked distinctly less than thrilled. "Isn't that right, Piper?"

"Totally," Piper agreed grudgingly. "Paint away, kid."

Sister Emily almost squeaked with excitement, and stepped closer to Rachel in order to begin gently sketching several concentric circles around her right eye, the lump of charcoal barely whispering across her skin as she did so. It wasn't long before Sister Emily had finished her designs and the women began the final stretch of their journey to the _Nucleus._

When they arrived at the fortified entrance to the submarine base, Rachel was immediately appalled at what she saw. Lashed to a large, vertical wooden platform was the limbless, glowing body of a feral ghoul, its head snapping backwards and forwards as it gnashed its teeth and growled at the Children of Atom who surrounded it, chanting in monotone voices as they manually pumped its luminous vital fluids out of the stumps of its arms and legs through clear plastic tubing, which trailed across the muddy ground towards the infinitely worse spectacle of four emaciated cultists similarly lashed to wooden frames. Their robes had been roughly torn open to reveal their bare chests, which had been split open at the sternum and a cracked fusion core jammed in with their exposed organs. Each broken core was connected to one of the tubes coming out of the glowing ghoul, the pump forcing the ghoul's blood down into the core's centre and pushing it almost to critical mass. The bound cultists were writhing in pain, but they were nevertheless still managing to cough a song of praise through bloody lips, and the foremost cultist's skin was already starting to turn a translucent green.

Behind her Rachel could hear Piper noisily vomiting her guts up. She didn't blame her.

"What is this?" she asked Sister Emily urgently. "Tell me what's going on here, sister."

"Isn't it obvious, Emissary?" Sister Emily said in a reverent tone. "This is transformation."


	6. In The Cold Light Of Day

Looking at the grotesque tableau in front of her, Rachel had never wanted to shoot somebody as badly as she wanted to right at that moment. She wanted to storm into the submarine base, push aside anybody in her way and then put a bullet firmly between the synthetic eyes of High Confessor Tektus. She wanted to trigger the nuclear warheads of the _Nucleus'_ payload and watch it explode in a giant plume of atomic fire. She wanted to slaughter every last Child of Atom who thought this… whatever _this_ was… was somehow their salvation.

That was what she _wanted_ to do, but it was also what she knew she _couldn't_ do, because not only were she and Piper outnumbered massively, but killing Tektus with no rhyme or reason would inevitably result in making him a martyr, and undoubtedly only strengthening his cause in the process. Cutting the head off this particular cobra, she knew, was going to need a more balanced approach than just pulling her trigger a few dozen times. Clenching her fists she marched past the chanting cultists, trying not to let the moans of pain and perverse joy coming from the strung-up sacrifices distract her, straight up to the front entrance of the base. One of the two armoured guards on duty stared at her almost in disbelief. "It's really true," he said, his eyes gone wide. "The Emissary's returned to us."

"I have," Rachel replied, struggling hard to keep her voice as calm as possible. "I'm here to see the High Confessor; I have matters I need to discuss, so you need to let me talk to him." She narrowed her eyes. " _Now._ "

The zealot bowed his head briefly and then opened the door to the base, immediately causing the Geiger counter in Rachel's Pip-Boy to start shrieking in protest. Reflexively Rachel reached for the bottle of Rad-X tablets in her pocket and swallowed one of them with a mouthful of water from the flask she had slung at her waist. She passed the flask and the bottle of tablets to Piper, who managed to take one without throwing up again, even if she did look like she was barely keeping herself together. Rachel took her hand to help steady her as she wobbled on unsteady feet, and immediately felt Piper's fingers tighten around hers like a vice, almost crushing her knuckles in the process.

As Rachel, Piper and Sister Emily entered the base, Rachel noticed that the decontamination arches she had "repaired" with what she thought had been an almost undetectable alteration weren't functioning as they had been previously, their nozzles once again dry and unresponsive. Seeing Rachel's interest, Sister Emily gestured at them and said "The arches stopped working a little while after you left us. Sister Mai tried to fix them again, but she couldn't, so we had to leave them as they were. The High Confessor wasn't very happy, but he –"

"I'm sure the High Confessor can tell me himself," Rachel snapped, interrupting Sister Emily in a clipped tone. "Where is he?"

"He hasn't left his shrine in the _Nucleus_ since he had his vision," Sister Emily said, a little taken aback by the tone of Rachel's words. "I'll take you to him –"

"I know where he is," Rachel said, interrupting Sister Emily again. "I can find my way there myself without your help." She took a deep breath then, realising that alienating her only real ally here would be a huge mistake, and laid a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry, sister – I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. Forgive me."

"Of… of course, Emissary," Sister Emily said, surprised. "I didn't take offence."

"I'm glad to hear that," Rachel replied, "but I still feel like I need to make it up to you. How about I come and find you when I'm done speaking with the High Confessor, and we can pray together some more?"

"Thank you, Emissary," Sister Emily said, curtseying in gratitude for a moment. "I'll be in my bunk on the middle level when you leave the High Confessor; it's the first one on the left as you come down the stairs. I'll see you there?"

"Yes," Rachel reassured her, taking Sister Emily's willowy hand between her palms as she did so. "Hopefully this won't take too long."

Sister Emily lowered her eyes in supplication and then took her leave, disappearing down the nearest rickety wooden staircase without another word. Rachel still didn't understand how such a haphazard, cobbled-together construction was even stable, let alone permanently occupied, but she had learned long ago not to question it. Whatever kind of engineering was being used, she reasoned, it obviously worked well enough. Nevertheless, she was still able to let out a small sigh of relief when she and Piper set down on the metal of the _Nucleus'_ scarred, pitted hull, their footsteps ringing out in the enclosed space of the launch bay, and opened the access hatch into its innards.

Rachel's Pip-Boy screeched angrily again as it realised that the radiation levels in the submarine itself were considerably higher than those outside of it, and for a moment Rachel wondered if she could pull out its power source in order to silence it. She curled her hands into fists and tried her best to block out the device's panicky, skittering cries as she and Piper descended further into the _Nucleus'_ bowels, the only light source being the banks of candles that flickered and sputtered in every corner of every room they passed through. Disciples of Atom knelt in prayer or sat cross-legged in quiet contemplation at regular intervals along the path to Tektus' throne room and private shrine, the candles' flames draping lengthy, uneven shadows over them as they soaked up the submarine's toxic atmosphere, no doubt silently hoping for a revelation from their god. When they finally noticed her, however, they flocked to her in a heartbeat, blocking her path as they eagerly beseeched her to bless them or just tried to touch her clothes. It took all her will to refrain from bluntly shoving them all aside and ignoring their attempts to win her favour, instead masking her frustration by faking a smile and laying her hands on as many of the faithful as she could reach. Eventually she was able to part the crowd of adoring zealots and make her way towards the shrine where she knew Tektus would be waiting for her. She resolved not to hesitate for a moment longer than she had had to already.

As soon as the crowd was out of earshot, though, Rachel felt Piper's hand on her arm. She turned around to look at the other woman and found herself faced with a dead-eyed, tear-rimmed glare.

"Bring the Brotherhood here," Piper said in a flat tone. "Get on the radio and call them so they can burn this whole fucking place to the ground."

"What?" Rachel said, not quite believing what she was hearing. "You can't be serious."

"Never been more serious in my entire life," Piper continued, her expression stony and cold. "These assholes don't deserve to live after what they did to those people outside." She narrowed her eyes almost to slits. "You know I'm right, don't you?"

"Piper," Rachel began, taking hold of the shorter woman's upper arms and directly meeting her gaze. "Piper, honey, I know this is a really shitty situation, but right now I need you to listen to me. Whatever Tektus did outside doesn't matter in here. In here we can't do _anything_ to him, do you understand? We need information and he's the only one who can give it to us, so we need to keep him alive for now." She exhaled loudly, gesturing to both of the narrow passageway's exits. "We're also surrounded. You fire off a single shot in there and I guarantee you we're both dead inside two minutes."

"Maybe we'd be better off dead," Piper said in a raspy, withered voice, her icy facade cracking as fresh tears cut glistening trails down her cheeks, despite her efforts to keep them contained. "We could have – we _should have_ stopped this! Why didn't we stop this, Blue? Those poor people out there are dying because we weren't fast enough to save them!"

"I know," Rachel said, drawing Piper closer to her and enfolding her in her arms, gently pressing Piper's head to her chest, "but we can still try to save whoever these people took from the Commonwealth and Far Harbor. They're our top priority now, okay? We have to get them out of here as quickly as we can, and calling in the Brotherhood would most likely get them killed in a crossfire. If we're going to save those people, we need to pick our battles and I need you to stay with me. Can you do that?" She felt Piper let out a couple of juddering sobs, the sounds muffling themselves against her body, and then the reporter looked up at her, her eyes still wet but now filled with something other than monotone rage.

"Yes," she said, her voice quavering for a moment before she injected it with the faintest trace of her trademark fortitude. "Yes, I can do that." She disengaged herself from Rachel's arms and ran her hands through her hair, taking a couple of deep breaths and dabbing at her bruised face with a handkerchief she'd kept hidden up one of her sleeves. "I'm sorry I freaked out, Blue. I couldn't help it."

"You shouldn't have to apologise for being angry about this," Rachel told her emphatically. "Don't ever think that having a heart is a weakness. Now let's go get some answers."

The door to Tektus' shrine was ajar ever so slightly, and through the gap Rachel could hear him reciting a lengthy prayer, his voice slurring slightly at the end of every line. Then, as she and Piper entered the shrine, she saw his head twitch violently, and as it did so his words became a high-pitched, almost electronic chirruping sound. Rachel frowned for a moment, a little puzzled since she'd never heard any other third-generation synth make anything close to that kind of noise before, until her anger and resolve abruptly returned. Striding forwards, she grabbed a loose fold of Tektus' robe and yanked him to his feet, turning him around roughly so that she could look him in the eye. As soon as she did so, however, she saw exactly why Tektus had been stumbling over his words: the left side of his face was hanging slack, almost as if he had had a stroke, spittle leaking from between his slack lips. For a moment it seemed like he didn't recognise her, his eyes clouding over as if his brain was trying to retrieve lost or corrupted information, before the light returned to them and he smiled as best he could. "Emissary?" he asked, his voice dragging lethargically across his tongue even as his mangled expression registered his surprise. "You… you honour… me with your pres – your pres – your presence –" and then he began warbling mechanically again, his head jerking violently to the side for a moment after he finished speaking.

"What happened to you?" Rachel asked, stunned that the machine behind the man could have gone so wrong.

"A gift from – from Atom, child," Tektus replied, his wilted, melted-candle face briefly showing some muted elation. "He showed me what to do. Showed me the true path we must all follow to be free." He twitched again, mechanical chittering replacing his words momentarily once more. "Pain is a temporary price to pay for the truth, don't you think?"

"I've always thought so," Rachel said, almost through gritted teeth. "Where are you keeping the people from Far Harbor and the Commonwealth, Confessor? I want to see if I can convince them to join our family willingly. They know me, after all – maybe I can make them realise that this is their only chance to be saved?"

Tektus frowned for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "If you think that's what needs to be done, Emissary," he said, "then I will leave it up to you. You will find the heathens in the lower level of the base; I thought it prudent to make sure that they got a good dose of the glow before we helped them ascend. None of them seem to be unaffected by Atom's touch, after all." He smiled an uneven smile. "Much better for them in the long run, yes?"

"That's very true," Rachel said, her jaw tightening around the words. "Please excuse me, Confessor – I have some people I need to speak to."

Tektus nodded again. "As you wish, Emissary. With your help I'm sure we can make this mission of ours succeed."

"I hope so," Rachel lied, before she turned on her heel and marched out of the shrine, closing the door behind her and Piper as she did so. Then she looked at Piper with a haggard expression and said "Okay. 'Burn this whole fucking place to the ground' it is, then."

"Wait," Piper said, incredulous, "you're not really going to destroy this place now, are you? After all you said –"

"No, not like that," Rachel explained. "Not literally. We _are_ going to break this place to pieces, but we're going to do it with faith, not bullets. Come with me and I'll show you how." She took Piper's hand and led her out of the submarine, towards the barely-stable gantry where Sister Emily had said small bunk was situated. When they arrived there, the young woman was lying on her grimy mattress with a pair of delicate wire-framed spectacles perched on her nose, completely lost in a technical manual about fusion generators, so Rachel coughed gently to attract her attention. She looked up over the rims of her glasses to see where the noise had come from, before abruptly scrambling to her feet when she realised precisely who it was who had appeared at her bedside.

"Emissary!" she said excitedly, before bowing her head in respect. "You came back! I didn't expect you to remember me."

"How could I forget?" Rachel said, placing her palm across the top of Sister Emily's scalp before she shifted her fingers underneath the shorter woman's chin so that she could meet her gaze. "I need you to follow me now, sister. Will you help me get the prisoners from Far Harbor and the Commonwealth out of here?"

"I don't understand – why would you want to do that?" Sister Emily said in a slightly confused tone. "Don't you want to help spread Atom's word?"

"Yes, but not this way," Rachel said emphatically. "The Mother of the Fog chose me to be her messenger for a reason, and that reason wasn't to sit back and let a false prophet destroy everything you've built here."

"'False prophet'?" Sister Emily repeated, horrified. "What are you saying, Emissary?"

"What I'm saying, sister," Rachel replied, picking her words with slow, deliberate care, "is that no matter his intentions, the High Confessor is defiling this place against Atom's will. He's not himself, and he cannot be allowed to stay at the head of this church under any circumstances."

"How can you say that?" Sister Emily asked, suddenly becoming visibly distressed. "How can you doubt him? The High Confessor is the most devout of all of us."

 _This would be so much easier if I could just tell her the truth about Tektus,_ Rachel thought, sour frustration coiling at the back of her brain. _Figures that I wouldn't get the easy option._ "He may think he is," she said, "but what he's doing is wrong, don't you see?" She paused. "You told me before we got here that you wanted to go preaching to the mainland with Brother Joseph one day. Isn't that better than hurting people the way Tektus wants you to?"

"I – I don't know," Sister Emily said, her voice shaking. "I can't leave here now –"

"Yes, you can," Piper told her firmly. "You and Brother Joseph can come with us back to the Commonwealth if you want to, but the Emissary needs your help first. Atom needs your help."

"But why me?" Sister Emily asked, still not sounding convinced. "I'm nobody special. Why did you choose me?"

"I was nobody special too, and then the Mother of the Fog appeared to me," Rachel said, shrugging momentarily. "Everybody has to start somewhere, and I think this is where you start, sister. I have faith in you – do you have faith in me?"

"I… do," Sister Emily whispered, lowering her chin to her chest. "You're the Emissary. I'll follow you wherever you lead."

"I'm glad to hear that," Rachel replied. "Now we have a lie to expose…"


	7. Faith Under Fire

"Brother Joseph? I need to talk to you," Sister Emily whispered as she tried to shake her friend awake from his slumber. He rolled onto his opposite side with an annoyed grunt, his face twisting with irritation as he turned his back to her. Undeterred, Sister Emily shook him again. "Please, brother. I really need to talk to you."

Reluctantly Brother Joseph turned to face her again, his mind clearly still a little foggy with sleep. "What is it?" he mumbled in mild annoyance as he rubbed his eyes. It took him a second to realise that Sister Emily wasn't alone – Rachel and Piper stood a few steps behind her. Instantly he got to his feet, smoothing down his robes and tightening the cord that cinched them in at his waist as he did so. "I'm sorry, Emissary," he said as he regained his balance and then bowed before her, spreading his arms to either side. "If I'd known it was you I would have –"

"It's all right, brother," Rachel said simply, laying her hand on the top of Brother Joseph's shaven scalp for a moment. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I haven't?" Brother Joseph asked, frowning. "Then… why are you here?"

"We need your help," Rachel replied. "We have to free the prisoners you took from Far Harbor and the Commonwealth."

"But the High Confessor –"

"Is my concern," Rachel finished, her voice sharp. "In fact, he should be everyone's concern. What he's doing is wrong. It's against everything we believe."

"How can it be wrong?" Brother Joseph exclaimed. "We're just doing what Atom is asking us to do."

"No, you're doing what the _High Confessor_ is asking you to do," Rachel retorted. "You can't trust Tektus anymore, do you understand me? Something very bad's happened to him – he's not the man he used to be. He has to be stopped before his heresy spreads any further, for his own good and for the good of this church."

"Please, Joseph, you have a chance to do some real good here," Sister Emily said, imploringly. "You know the Emissary is right, don't you? This isn't what we were promised when we came here."

"What we were promised?" Brother Joseph echoed, his frown deepening. "We were promised salvation, sister. If this is what it takes to be saved then it has to be done."

"No, Joseph, this is the wrong path – I know that now. Do this for the Emissary."

"I'm not sure," Brother Joseph said in an increasingly-conflicted tone. "I don't even know this woman. Why should I trust her over the High Confessor?"

"Because she's the one who the Mother of the Fog chose to reveal herself to – the one who brought us back the holy symbol of the Mother's love," Sister Emily replied. "I think that counts for more than a single vision, don't you?" She stepped forwards and clutched her friend's hands in hers, her pale knuckles going even whiter as she closed them around his fingers. "But if you don't want to do this for her… will you do it for me?"

"All right," Brother Joseph said after a lengthy pause. "All right. Follow me." He walked quickly towards the nearest staircase, the wood creaking in annoyance with every one of his footsteps, and headed downwards towards the lowest level of the base, leading the three women behind him through the wafting trails of radioactive vapour and incense that permeated the Children's living quarters. Rachel felt her nostrils start to sting as the combination of odours got more and more intense the lower they descended, her stomach simultaneously tying itself in knots as she tried to hold back the gagging sensation she could feel building at the back of her throat. No matter how many times she visited the _Nucleus_ , she still found herself wondering how these people hadn't dropped dead from radiation poisoning by now.

 _Irrelevant,_ she told herself scornfully, clamping down quickly on any wandering thoughts. _Focus on the mission, soldier._ She folded her hands into fists and walked that little bit faster, trying to compartmentalise her thoughts as she did so.

The abducted settlers and citizens of Far Harbor were standing ankle-deep in the radioactive water pooling at the bottom of the submarine base, contained within wooden cages that were securely weighted down and fastened together with lengths of both chain and rope. Even with her untrained eye Rachel could see that many of the prisoners were already extremely unwell, their sallow, sunken cheeks and pallid, sweat-soaked skin an indication of just how toxic their surroundings really were, patches of the luminous water covered with floating slicks of bloody vomit. The settlers from the northern reaches of the Commonwealth looked particularly afflicted, which Rachel supposed made sense – for them the island's own unique cocktail of radiation would have been a totally new sensation, one that their immune systems would reject without regular infusions of Rad-X and RadAway to stave off its effects. She remembered how the very air itself had made her woozy and sluggish the first time she had breathed it, so she had at least some idea of the nauseous discomfort they had to be feeling. Captain Avery and Brooks still appeared completely fine, if a little bedraggled, since their synth physiology didn't react to radiation at all – or if it did, it happened at a vastly reduced rate to that of human tissue. There had to be some side-effects eventually, she supposed, considering Danse had managed to pass as human for years on end without suspicion, but whatever they were, now wasn't the time to be pondering the finer points of synthetic biology. _Just another thing I should save until later,_ she decided. _Mission first, everything else second._

As she approached the cage, Captain Avery abruptly noticed her and began to open her mouth to speak. Quickly Rachel pressed her finger to her lips and shook her head as she sloshed towards the cage as quietly as she could, gooey strings of unidentifiable organic debris rippling around her boots as she did so.

"Mainlander?" Avery whispered in disbelief as Rachel closed the gap between herself and the cage. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you," Rachel replied simply, before she fished a pristine bobby pin and her favourite screwdriver out of her jacket's outer pocket, crouching as she started to tentatively experiment with the tumblers on the first of the three padlocks keeping the cage's door closed, only taking a few moments to pop its tumblers and pull it free. "This shouldn't take long. Can you move?"

"I think so. Most of us from Far Harbor are basically fine – Allen's looking a little green around the gills but I think he'll be okay. The man's far too ornery to let a little bit of sickness get him," Avery said, before regret began to hang heavily in her words. "The mainlanders the rad-worshippers brought here are in pretty bad shape, though. I don't think anything short of a bath in RadAway is going to get them anywhere close to healthy again."

Rachel felt her shoulders sag as if under a heavy weight, and she exhaled a long breath of sheer frustration. "Couldn't give me just one easy win, could you?" she muttered, lowering her head to her chest for a moment before she met Piper's eyes again. "Okay, here's what we're going to do: Piper, you, Captain Avery and Sister Emily will take those that can walk on their own and get them out of here while I create a diversion. Stick to the shadows, keep out of sight and don't stop unless you have to. Brooks, you and Brother Joseph will stay here with those that can't move by themselves. Keep them covered, and then evacuate them as fast as you can. Hopefully I can buy you enough time to get them through the door or the base, and then join you when I'm done."

"Wait," Piper said, laying her hand on Rachel's collar-bone, a concerned expression creasing her bruised face. "What do you mean 'diversion'?"

"I mean I'm going to try preaching again," Rachel replied, returning her attention to the locks on the cage door and tossing aside the second as it clicked open reluctantly. It made a forlorn splash as it sunk beneath the water's greasy surface and then disappeared, leaving only a few momentary ripples to mark its existence. "I haven't worked out the finer details of the sermon yet. Just… just trust me on this."

Piper scowled. "You know, Blue, whenever you say stuff like that it makes me want to trust you _less_ ," she said in a flat tone as she removed her hat and ran her free hand through her hair, "but all right. I trust you. See you soon." Leaning down, she gently kissed the top of Rachel's scalp. "Don't you dare die on me, you beautiful asshole, or I swear I'll kill you."

Despite herself, despite the situation, Rachel couldn't help but smile. "I'll bear that in mind." She pushed herself to her feet and squared herself up in front of the compact reporter after she had popped the final padlock and thrown it away, taking one of Piper's small, pale hands in hers and brushing her lips against the shorter woman's mouth for a moment. "I won't be long, I promise." She unslung her radiation rifle then, pressing it gently but firmly into Piper's grasp. "Here – you should take this. You'll probably have to use it more than I will."

"I don't understand," Piper said, tilting her head quizzically for a moment. "Why are you giving me this? Won't you need it?"

Rachel shrugged. "You might get into a serious firefight. The last thing you want is to be underdressed for it, you know?"

"But Blue, what about –" Piper began, before Rachel cut her off abruptly with a wave of her hand.

"I'll be fine, but these people might not be unless you can protect them. Can you do that for me?"

"I guess I can try," Piper replied, slipping the rifle's strap over her shoulder and resting its stock in the crook of her elbow, her finger curling itself around the weapon's trigger.

"That's all I ask," Rachel said, cracking her knuckles reflexively. "Stay here until you hear me start speaking, and then get moving. Be ready."

"I'll do my best," Piper said, vivid reluctance colouring her words. "Come back to me, okay?"

"Always," Rachel told her with a small, crooked smile. "Can't get rid of me that easily."

She gripped Piper's fingers one more time before she turned on her heel and began walking towards the staircase that would take her back to the top of the _Nucleus'_ hull, reaching around to the small of her back and checking to make sure her chain-dagger still occupied its spot on her belt, finding the sensation of the weapon's cold, contoured hilt under her fingertips almost comforting in its own bizarre way.

She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Her trip up towards the top of the scaffolding was just as staccato as the journey to see Tektus, with disciples of Atom flocking around her and beseeching her for a moment of her time as soon as they saw her – and as before, she did her best to hide her irritation behind a fixed smile, short blessings and simple laying-on of hands for those of the faithful who managed to get closest to her, because she had realised that the more she did this, the more support she was likely to receive later, when she really needed it. Gently she managed to push towards the other side of the adoring throng and make her way to the uppermost level of the base, with the faithful following along only a few steps behind her. She continued to lead them along her path until she stood in front of Tektus' pulpit on top of the _Nucleus'_ upper hatch, her hands curling around the metal railing as her new flock stood back respectfully, anticipation of her sermon clearly visible on their faces. She took a deep breath, her shoulders juddering as she exhaled through pursed, suddenly bone-dry lips.

 _You can do this._

She cleared her throat thoroughly before she closed her hand around her dagger again, pulled it from its resting-place and then hit the railing with the reverse side of its toothed blade, the ringing sound amplified exponentially by the acoustics of the launch bay and causing those of the Children of Atom who hadn't followed her to stand and look towards where the noise was coming from. Three more times she repeated the chime, until she was sure that everybody inside the base who could hear her was pointed in her direction.

"Children of Atom!" she began, trying to project as much confidence and assuredness into her voice as she could while it echoed from wall to wall. "I am the Emissary of the Mother of the Fog, and this is my gospel – hear my words and know the truth!" She paused, pointing at the group of disciples standing in front of her. "Let me ask you a question first: why are we here?"

For a few moments there was silence, before a woman cried out "To serve Atom!"

"Exactly," Rachel agreed, beckoning the unknown worshipper towards her with one hand. "Step forward, sister. Let Atom's light shine on your face." After a moment, a woman pushed her way to the front of the congregation. She was tall and gaunt, with patchy tufts of dirty red hair unevenly distributed across her scalp, and nervousness suddenly etched on her thin features. Rachel smiled at her briefly to try to ease her mood, and said "Don't be afraid, sister. What's your name?"

"My name?" the woman said, as if she could not quite believe the attention she was getting. "It's… it's Anna."

"Thank you, Anna," Rachel told her firmly. "You're right: we're here to serve Atom, and that's why I came back to the _Nucleus_. Serving Atom is not about causing pain or suffering, it's about showing others the radiance of His love. How many of you have gone out to preach the word? Anna, have you been to the Commonwealth?"

"Once," the red-headed woman said, in a meek tone. She hung her head, her shoulders slumping in shame. "Nobody took any notice of me."

"That doesn't matter," Rachel replied, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "You still tried, and that's all Atom requires. He is a benevolent father to us all, even the unbelievers, and killing them is wrong. I can see now that Confessor Tektus has lost sight of that, and if you do what he is telling you to do, you make Atom's message meaningless. You spread fear and reap nothing but violence in return. Is that what you really want?"

The congregation started to ripple with incredulous murmurs of disbelief. "What are you saying, Emissary?" Sister Anna asked, stunned. "Confessor Tektus is blessed by Atom!"

"So he says," Rachel retorted, scorn thick in her voice, "but you only have his word for that. Have you seen any proof? Has he shown you miracles? I haven't seen any. But me?" She shrugged. "I brought you back one of your holiest relics after drinking from the spring to the west of here, I convinced Sister Gwyneth to return to the _Nucleus_ , I brought you peace with Acadia, and what has Tektus done? Nothing, except get you to blaspheme against Atom's creation. You know I'm right, don't you, brothers and sisters?" She could see the ripples in the crowd increasing with every word, and she found herself daring to believe that this insane plan might work – but then she heard the hatch of the _Nucleus_ creaking open behind her, and she looked back to see Confessor Tektus climbing out, even if he was clearly finding it difficult to use all of his limbs.

"What's – what's going on here?" he demanded through his mangled lips. "Emissary? What are you doing?"

"Putting an end to this," Rachel declared. "You're a heretic and a liar. Time for you to be deposed."


	8. Crisis Of Conscience

High Confessor Tektus narrowed his eyes, a brief expression of confusion crossing his waxy, uneven features for a moment before it turned into an angry snarl. "Blasphemy!" he cried, spittle arcing from his lips as he raised his hand shakily and pointed at Rachel with a quivering finger. "Betrayal!"

 _Finally an advantage,_ Rachel thought with a perverse sense of satisfaction. _You're making this_ far _too easy, tin man._ "No," she said, her voice even and measured. "Not betrayal. I'm trying to help you, Confessor. I'm trying to save you from yourself. Can't you see you're the one in the wrong here?" She gestured back towards the gathered Children, who were universally watching the two leaders of their church with bated breath, as Zealots Ware and Theil cautiously began flanking the throng. "You took these people's trust for granted, like it meant nothing to you, and I won't stand by and let your mistakes separate them from Atom any longer. But," and she paused for a moment, "if you want to leave this temple now, I'll make sure you're given safe passage to wherever you want to go. You have my word." It wasn't much, she knew, but she also knew that offering mercy without openly expecting anything in return would make the High Confessor look unreasonable for rejecting it. She'd learned very quickly during her courtroom career as a prosecutor that sometimes it was better to let the accused do the hard work for her, and had caught more than a few thieves and assault suspects that way – she had once even had a multiple murderer fall victim to her strategy. She'd been very proud of that case.

"Your word, 'Emissary'?" Tektus scoffed scornfully. "What good is your word when you try to take – take my place behind my back?"

"I'm not trying to take your place," Rachel replied in what she hoped was a sufficiently reassuring tone. "I want you to stay, but your flock needs a leader with a better vision, and that's not you. What you're doing isn't right, Confessor. I know it, these people know it, and deep down you know it too. Let me help you find the right path again." _Come on, Tektus_ , she thought. _Give me what I want. Spring the trap._

"How dare you?" Tektus hissed. "How _dare_ you? You – you're no friend to this church!" Raising his voice, he called back to the faithful. "This woman is fooling you all! Do Atom's will and take her from this place – let her join the sacrifices outside so she can truly serve the Lord of Division!"

There was a brief silence as Tektus returned his gaze toward Rachel, his crumpled face twitching into a misshapen smile as he did so. Then, a single, uncertain voice shattered the stillness as it said "No."

Tektus' thin-lipped grin wilted in an instant, and he rounded on the congregation to see where the word had come from, his eyes gone wide with rage. "Who defies me? Show yourself, you insolent child!"

 _There it is,_ Rachel realised triumphantly. _Trap sprung._

The owner of the voice stepped forward, and Rachel saw that it was the tall, gaunt Sister Anna that had spoken. "I do. I defy you, Confessor," she said, a slight quaver in her words. "I see it now. You're wrong about the Emissary. You're wrong about all of this. I defy you."

"So be it," Tektus hissed. "Let Sister Anna be – be an example too."

"I won't do it," another solitary voice exclaimed. "I think you're wrong too, Confessor." Rachel immediately recognised the voice's thin, reedy tone as that of Brother Devin, whom she had saved from his self-imposed fasting almost at the last minute. She was briefly relieved to see that he looked a touch healthier now, or at least a little more well-fed, and felt a little twinge of gratitude for his intervention. "I think –"

The boy staggered sideways before he could finish speaking, rocked by a sudden, crunching blow to the side of his head. It took the congregation, and Rachel, a moment to register that Grand Zealot Richter had forced his way through the gathered throng, evidently having had enough of the dissenting worshippers, and cracked Devin in the left temple with the butt of his rifle. The stunned crowd of devoted separated rapidly as he stood over Devin's dazed form, their expressions turned wide-eyed and fearful. "Enough!" the muscular ex-Enclave soldier exclaimed, casting a scathing glare about himself and causing those closest to him to recoil even further. "The next person to show the High Confessor any disrespect won't walk away alive. I guarantee it." He raised his weapon and pointed it directly towards Rachel, casually flicking off its safety catch as he did so. "That includes you. I don't care if you're the Emissary of the Mother or not – you will show the High Confessor the respect he deserves, or you will die."

"Are you really sure you want to do that, brother?" Rachel asked, spreading her hands out to either side. "Are you so threatened by a different philosophy that you would kill me to silence it?"

Sparks suddenly flew off the tower of the _Nucleus_ as a bullet ricocheted off its hull and caused Rachel to flinch reflexively, her heart spasming in her chest as she did so. "That was a practice shot, Emissary," Richter snapped, ignoring the increasing tumult around him. "I won't miss next time. Stand down, and this will end peacefully." He sneered. "Don't stand down, and we'll see how blessed by Atom you _really_ are. In fact –"

"I wouldn't try finishing that sentence, Grand Zealot," Zealot Ware interrupted flatly, his own rifle raised and aimed directly at Richter's head. "Put down the gun."

"I'm telling you, Ware, don't interfere with this judgement," Richter said, still keeping his piercing glare focused directly on Rachel. "The Emissary will be punished, one way or another. It's up to her what that punishment will be."

Ware shook his head. "You attacked Brother Devin for no reason, Richter. The Emissary stopped him from killing himself." He took a step forwards, his rifle inching closer to the other man's face. "Devin might be a Jet-head but he's my friend, and she saved his life. Who do you think I'm going to support here?"

That got Richter's attention. In an instant, he turned away from Rachel and squared himself up against Ware, his gun resolutely aimed and ready. Ware was a big man, but he was nevertheless still dwarfed by the brutish Richter, whose presence was becoming more and more unnerving with each passing moment. "I'm going to give you one chance to reconsider, brother, just like I gave the Emissary. Don't push me into doing something you'll regret."

"Threatening me now? I thought I knew you better than that, Grand Zealot," Ware said in a flat, cold tone, keeping his weapon braced against his shoulder. "Are you really willing to risk everything we've built here?"

Richter shrugged. "Don't test my patience and we won't find out, brother."

Rachel could see the crowd separating already, grouping themselves behind either Ware or Richter, and realised that any spark right now could ignite something terrible – and with the Far Harbor residents trying to sneak their way out of the base, she couldn't risk stray bullets flying around. She had to act, and she had to do it quickly, or her whole plan would all be for nothing.

Before she could move, though, Tektus had already raised a gnarled hand and pointed at Ware. "This insubordination is unacceptable," the wizened, defective synth proclaimed angrily. "Make an example out of him, Richter. Atom commands it."

"No," Rachel hissed, "Atom doesn't." Shoving Tektus out of her way, causing the defective synth to stagger and brace himself against the hull of the submarine, she sprinted towards the narrow gangplank that would take her directly to the concrete walkway which enclosed the _Nucleus_ on three sides. _Don't do anything stupid, Grand Zealot,_ she thought as she ran, hoping against hope that she could reach Richter and Ware before they killed each other. The fragile wooden walkway protested loudly beneath her urgent footfalls but didn't break, which reassured her a little bit. All the same she was glad to set herself down on the concrete of the base, exhaling briefly before she started running again, this time towards the increasingly-unstable crowd circling around the two zealots as they stood eye to eye, fingers crooked tightly around the triggers of their guns. She ran, her calves starting to burn a little with every lengthening stride, and made it to the cluster of disciples before either Ware or Richter was able to end the stalemate. She parted the throng with ease, her aura of respect still relatively intact, and strode towards the two zealots before positioning herself in between them and laying her hands on the barrels of their rifles. "All right, that's enough," she said, pressing down on the barrels and lowering the weapons gently but firmly before inserting herself between the two men and pushing them apart. "Nobody needs to die today."

"Maybe not," Richter said in a clipped tone, "but you're still not welcome here anymore. Get out." He met her gaze with an unblinking, steely-eyed glare. "Final warning." Dropping his gun, he pulled a large serrated combat knife from its scabbard on his belt. Its blade glittered in the uneven light of the base, candle-flames flickering briefly across it. "I used this to gut a dozen mirelurks once," he said nonchalantly. "What do you suppose it'll do to you?"

Despite herself, despite the situation, Rachel snorted with amusement. "You've killed mirelurks with a knife? I'm terrified." She turned her head to one side and showed him the long scar running down the right side of her neck. "See this? I got it from a deathclaw." She smiled. "Those things taste like chicken, did you know that?"

"What are you waiting for, Richter?" Tektus demanded furiously, his slurred words full of white-hot anger. " _Kill her!"_

Richter didn't waste his movement. He lunged forwards, his knife racing towards Rachel's stomach – but he was interrupted as someone grabbed the corner of his shoulder armour, throwing him off-balance slightly. It took him a fraction of a second to right himself and swing round, instinctively aiming a slashing blow at the person who had done it.

It took Rachel a moment to realise that it had been Sister Anna who had saved her, and another moment to realise that Richter's angry retaliation had opened her throat, the narrow, lengthy wound pulsing first a trickle, then a river of blood down her neck. She gurgled unintelligibly through the bright red liquid as it filled her mouth, clutching weakly at her neatly slit flesh with clumsy, unresponsive fingers before collapsing to her knees and pitching face-first into the hard concrete with a wet thud, a scarlet corona immediately beginning to form around her head.

 _Fuck._

In an instant, everything changed. The fragile balance between the two halves of the congregation shattered, disciples beginning to scream at each other before the first real punch was thrown by a sandy-haired male cultist, who knocked Zealot Theil to the ground as he bellowed a battlefield prayer to Atom. Her jaw dislocated and pushed sideways by the blow, Theil scrambled backwards as she drew a pistol from the holster integrated into her hip-armour and then aimed and fired in one motion, hitting the man right between the eyes. A small, almost surgical hole formed on his forehead an instant before the back of his skull opened like a flower, spilling its contents outwards in a soupy red fog. Rachel didn't have time to fully process what had just happened, though, as Grand Zealot Richter took advantage of the momentary distraction and renewed his attack.

"I told you to leave," he snarled, fury etched on his craggy features. "Now I'm going to _make_ you leave. _"_ Before Rachel could move, he had brought his combat knife down hard into her right shoulder, the blade's serrated edge punching cleanly through the ballistic weave of her jacket and scraping against the underside of her collarbone.

Rachel screamed. The pain of the wound worsened when Richter tore the knife free, further widening the ragged cut, and she stumbled for a moment, disoriented and dizzy. She'd been stabbed before, but this was different – she could feel her ruptured muscle starting to sizzle and her veins beginning to burn. The weapon had clearly been bathed in radiation, its effect magnified by the poison it had absorbed, and Rachel knew that meant she didn't have time to pull her punches – if the radiation continued to course through her body unchecked, she would soon be in no shape to help the prisoners from Far Harbor and the Commonwealth. She couldn't let that happen.

Shaking her head to rid herself of the fogginess in her skull, she lashed out with her gore-stained right hand, trying to aim her chain-dagger at a gap in Richter's heavy body armour, only to see the weapon slipping from her slackening fingers and clattering to the floor as more blood soaked its way through her sleeve.

"No wisecracks now?" Richter sneered at her as she missed her mark before he casually back-handed her hard across the face. She felt her lip splitting and her cheek cracking as his reinforced gauntlet made contact, sharp edges of bone suddenly grinding harshly against one another while she reeled from the impact. Not giving her a moment to come to her senses, Richter kicked her in the stomach, winding her, and she fell backwards into the wall and the open fusebox bolted to it, her right foot involuntarily kicking aside the tray of tools that had been left beneath it. She felt one of her ribs bend painfully against the edge of the box, perilously close to snapping in half, and she collapsed to her knees in front of the Grand Zealot, her head lolling downwards for a moment. As she did so she felt something beneath the fingers of her left hand, something hard and metal.

A wrench. It wasn't as good as her usual weapon of choice, and it was in her weaker hand, but at this point Rachel would take what she could get. She closed her fingers around the tool slowly, so as not to distract the man in front of her.

"You know, Emissary," Richter said as he approached her, almost swaggering, "I almost regret this. You could have been a great ally to me."

"That's funny," Rachel wheezed, her lungs feeling like they were on fire. "I was about to say the same thing." Gathering strength in her legs she lunged forwards, sweeping the wrench in her hand around in a narrow semicircle. She didn't hit anything, but she hadn't expected to – all she'd intended to do was create some distance between her and the Grand Zealot, which she achieved as Richter swiftly moved backwards out of her reach. Using the momentary respite, Rachel pushed herself to her feet, feeling a searing sensation from her bruised rib that hindered her breathing even further. Her crimson-soaked right arm instinctively wrapped itself around her middle and she wobbled on her feet slightly, still woozy from the radiation pulsing outwards from her wounded shoulder. "Come on," she spat defiantly, hefting the wrench as best she could, even as her knees threatened to give way again. " _Come on!"_

Richter's face contorted with visible contempt. "If you insist, Emissary," he exclaimed, his voice going icy as he advanced on her, shifting his grip on his combat knife at the same time. He had almost closed the distance between them when gunfire began crackling upwards from the lower levels of the wooden scaffolding, along with exclamations of shock and disbelief.

"The sacrifices are escaping!" one man yelled as he ran up the nearest set of wooden stairs leading down to the toxic sludge at the bottom of the base. "Stop them!"

 _Piper._

It took a moment for Richter to realise what was happening. "What have you done?" he snarled, swiping at her with his knife. Parrying the blow as best she could, a dull clang echoing off the edge of her makeshift weapon and blood tiger-striping her face, Rachel smiled.

"I called in the cavalry."


	9. You Can't Stop The Press

Piper watched Rachel as she began making her way up the steps towards the upper deck of the scaffolding which encased the _Nucleus,_ hoping against hope that her girlfriend knew what she was doing.

 _Don't be dumb, Piper,_ she chided herself almost guiltily. _Of course she does._ If travelling with Blue had taught her anything, it was that her girlfriend had a knack for finding a way out of any situation, no matter how hopeless or impossible it seemed. She often wondered how that could be, given the sort of thing the two of them seemed to get caught up in on a regular basis – surely, _surely_ , Blue's luck had to run out sometime.

 _Just don't let it be today._

She took a deep breath and then turned to Captain Avery, holding out the radiation rifle that Blue had handed to her. "Here," she began, "you should have this, Captain. I told Blue – I mean, Rachel – I don't like radiation weapons, and I still don't. Everything I need I have right here." She drew her battered ten-millimetre pistol from its holster on her belt and held it up for a moment before she flicked off the safety catch. "Besides, we could all use an extra gun, don't you think?"

"You catch on quick, mainlander," Avery rasped through dry, cracked lips. "The rad-eaters won't let us go easy."

"I know," Piper replied, hefting her pistol and casting a couple of cautious glances towards the gantries above her and the rest of the more mobile former captives. "You're not the only ones the Children of Atom have gone after." She paused, trying to slow her pounding heart down a little. "Now get ready – stick to the plan and we'll all walk away from this in one piece." _I hope._

She slipped her free hand into one of her coat's pockets instinctively just then, checking to see how much spare ammunition she was carrying, and counted two fifteen-round magazines of pistol bullets, a small penknife and a handful of loose shotgun shells. If nothing else, she supposed she could throw the shells at someone as a distraction before she tried to give them what would amount to little more than a dry shave, because the knife was so small and puny that she only really used it for peeling mutfruits and popping the caps off of bottles of warm, syrupy Nuka-Cola. Still, after everything she'd done in her career as a journalist, after everything she'd seen Blue achieve with weapons that had seemed woefully inadequate at the time, she knew not to take anything for granted when it came to combat. With that in mind, she extended the small blade of the knife and slotted it into her belt.

"We won't have long," Sister Emily said, her breath catching slightly in her throat as her blue eyes tracked the same lines that Piper had. "We should move."

"No, we wait until the Emissary starts speaking," Piper snapped. "That's the plan. We stick to it." _C'mon, Blue, don't make me wait too long._

Five minutes passed, during which time Piper heard the sounds of a crowd wafting down from the scaffolding above. She couldn't make out any individual words but it sounded as if Blue had attracted a flock of followers on her trip up to the higher levels of the base, and again Piper wondered how she managed to do it without going insane from the attention she was getting – if they had traded places she had no doubt she wouldn't have been nearly so accepting of that kind of obsessive devotion.

Then she heard Blue start speaking, her voice having taken on the same kind of passionate fervour that the rest of the Children of Atom seemed to have all the time. Piper had to admit that kind of unnerved her a little, but she put that thought aside for now, realising that there were more important things to focus on. "All right, ladies," she began, looking at Avery and Sister Emily, "let's do this. Brooks, Brother Joseph, sit tight, okay? We'll get you all out of here soon, I promise."

Brother Joseph nodded silently and raised his rifle, while Brooks just hung his head in wordless resignation. Piper drew her lips into a thin line, and then headed towards the staircase leading to the upper levels of the base while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the half-dozen ragged Far Harbor residents following in her wake. The radioactive water that lapped at her boots as she moved turned Piper's stomach again – she couldn't believe something so foul was real, covered as it was in a gooey green film and reeking of what she was sure was a combination of congealed motor oil and excrement. How the Children of Atom lived within smelling distance of this disgusting soup was beyond her, but she blocked it out as much as possible until she reached the staircase, shaking her boots free of some lingering threads of sloppy filth while at the same time promising herself she'd burn them the minute she and Blue got home. Turning to her bedraggled group of survivors she said "Stay close and keep moving. You stand still, we die. You fall too far behind, we die. Don't pay attention to where you're going, we die. Understand?" For a moment it surprised her to hear those orders coming out of her mouth so easily, and she wondered if perhaps Blue's singularly tactical way of thinking had been rubbing off on her a little too much. In this particular situation, though, she supposed military precision wasn't something to be feared, so she took a deep breath and began ascending the stairs, her heart starting to pound inside her chest so hard it felt like it was going to burst through her ribs. Sister Emily and Avery flanked her as they climbed the stairs, forming a shield in front of the other captives, and Piper swore she could see Avery's finger twitching on the trigger of her rifle, as if it was one step away from unloading the weapon's entire magazine in a single burst. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, but it still wouldn't hurt to keep half an eye on the captain's demeanour from now on.

As they climbed, Piper heard Blue's sermon take a turn for the worse as the High Confessor's buzzing, slurred voice started to float downwards, venom dripping from every word. _At least they haven't seen us yet,_ she thought, trying to take something positive from the tenseness of the situation. Up ahead she could see a single gangly-looking disciple of Atom standing with his back to her, his attention focused completely on the unfolding disagreement above him. Holding up her free hand and clenching her fist, Piper indicated that the majority of the group stay put before she holstered her pistol and crept closer to the distracted worshipper, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible before she wrapped her arms around his neck in what Blue had taught her was called a rear naked chokehold, cutting off the blood supply to his brain and preventing him from calling out. Briefly the thin, scrawny man struggled against her, his arms desperately pawing at her face and trying to jam a finger into one of her eyes in order to make her let go, but with the hold locked in tight and his back to her, there wasn't much he could do to really shrug her off, and so he slowly sank to his knees before going completely limp.

When Piper was sure the man wouldn't be moving again any time soon, she raised her hand and beckoned her charges forwards. When Avery and Emily had joined her, she said "Help me move this guy – he won't be out for long and we can't leave him out in the open." Hooking her elbows under the man's arms while Avery shouldered her rifle and grabbed his legs, moving him into a darker corner and then hog-tying him by slicing a gap in the bottom edge of his baggy robes with her pen-knife and tearing a couple of strips off them. The last step was to gag him with the cord securing his robes at the waist. Perhaps the small blade would come in handy after all, she decided, unable to suppress a sense of misplaced amusement. Leaving the trussed-up disciple behind, she drew her pistol again and got ready to begin moving –

– and then she heard the gunshot, and heard Blue screaming in agony.

In an instant panic set in, sour and sharp against the surface of her mind, and Piper struggled to fight it. She was almost on the verge of dropping her weapon and running to try to save the woman she loved, but before she could do so she felt an arm curling around her elbow and preventing her from moving. She turned towards whoever was trying to stop her and saw Sister Emily, her charcoal-painted lips setting themselves into a thin line.

"Don't do it," the other woman hissed in an uncharacteristically firm tone. "The Emissary will be all right. Trust in Atom and He'll protect her."

Piper snorted. "Bullshit," she snapped, trying to pull away before the other woman tightened her grip. "Let go of me! I have to help her –"

"No," Sister Emily said flatly, dragging Piper closer to her until they were almost nose to nose. "Atom will protect the Emissary, but we still have to protect these people. That's what the Emissary told us to do, remember?"

Piper reluctantly conceded the other woman had a good point. She took a deep breath and let her shoulders drop. "Okay," she said hoarsely, running her left hand down over her face. "Okay." Every fibre of her being was screaming at her to disregard the situation and run, but she swallowed her fear and looming sense of dread, wiped at the moisture beginning to form at the corner of her eyes with her fingertips and then pressed forwards, her footsteps quickening despite herself.

 _Hold on, Blue,_ she thought. _I'm coming._

Another level, then another, silently overwhelming each lone worshipper as they went… and then their luck ran out. As Piper was laying an unconscious woman onto the wooden floor of the scaffolding, a man wielding a radiation rifle rounded a corner and caught her in the act. Without wasting another moment, he raised his gun and was seconds away from pulling the trigger before Sister Emily calmly dropped him with a single burst of searing plasma fire that passed so close to the side of Piper's face that it singed her hair and almost took a layer of skin off her cheek, the acrid stench of ozone lingering in her nostrils for a moment. The sound of the weapon's discharge provoked disciples on the level above to descend towards them, rifles up and ready.

 _Shit. Shit shit shit._

Realising stealth was no longer an option, Piper surged towards the first of the approaching cultists and unloaded a single bullet into his chest, the hollow-point round shattering his ribs and making him collapse in a boneless heap.

"The sacrifices are escaping! Stop them!" someone called out, his voice frantic. Avery loosed a volley of glowing green bullets from her rifle to try to silence him, but the man vanished before she could hit her target.

Piper cursed under her breath, knowing that more would follow him – and so she fought onwards, keeping one eye on the ragged gaggle of prisoners and the other on the path ahead of her, all the while hoping against hope that Blue would still be there for her when she reached her destination.

When she came to eye-level with the concrete surrounding the _Nucleus_ , all she could see was carnage. The Children of Atom had apparently splintered down the middle – some were screaming their support for the High Confessor, and others declaring their loyalty to the Emissary, and that division was being marked in blood, bodies splayed on the ground where they had fallen. She had barely taken a step before one of the cultists spotted her and charged. "Blasphemer!" he screamed, drawing back his arm and preparing to slash at her with a rusty-edged scythe, its serrated blade splattered with bright droplets of fresh gore. He was halfway through his swing when he suddenly careened sideways, his wiry body folded in half by Zealot Ware's muscular frame. When Ware had despatched the man with a blow to the side of the head from the butt of his rifle, he turned back to where Piper was standing. "You all right?" he asked, his voice understandably urgent as he kept scanning around himself for any immediate threats.

"I'm fine," Piper replied, "but I have the prisoners from the lower levels behind me. You need to help me get them out of here now, Ware."

"The prisoners? But –" Ware began, before Piper cut him off sharply with a wave of her hand.

"The Emissary told me to help them. Now I'm asking you to help me."

Ware looked conflicted for a moment and then nodded. "As the Emissary wills it," he replied, before he rose to his feet and moved towards two other Children, saying "You two – with me, now!" As the three men disappeared swiftly from her field of vision, Piper hoped that Avery and Sister Emily would be smart enough not to riddle them with bullets before they could help the escapees out.

And then, through the tangle of humanity, she saw her. Blue, her Blue, was lying on the concrete floor, barely moving, and Richter was looming over her like an executioner, his fists and knife dripping with blood. Piper trained her pistol on him for a moment, ready to end his assault permanently, before she realised that killing him would just make him a martyr in the eyes of those Children of Atom still loyal to Tektus. She cursed under her breath, holstered her gun and grabbed the small knife from her belt before breaking into a run towards where Richter was standing. Fortunately he was so focused on ending the Emissary once and for all that he did not hear her coming, and so she was able to get within touching distance before he even knew she was there. She took advantage of that by reversing her grip on her knife and driving the blade into Richter's unprotected neck right up to its base. The huge man roared in pain and rounded on her, his eyes blazing with fury and pain as he tore the tiny knife free from his ripped flesh and threw it to the ground.

" _You_ ," he snarled, his left hand instinctively pressed to the shallow wound in his neck, trickles of blood pulsing over his fingers. "I should have known you'd side with the Emissary. You follow her around just like a little puppy dog, after all." He snorted contemptuously. "No matter – you side with a heretic, you _die_ with a heretic." Then he stomped forwards, much faster than Piper had anticipated, slashing viciously at her with his bloodied knife. Piper evaded the swing as best she could, the toothed edge of the weapon missing her body but still slicing a piece out of her coat's battered sleeve, but avoiding the swing of the blade left her open to Richter punching her in the face with his free hand. She felt her lip splitting and her teeth grinding against each other to the point where she thought they might have broken, and her head started swimming as her vision blurred. Her legs buckled and she stumbled backwards, dizzy and disoriented.

Richter sneered, a cold chuckle passing across his lips, and he advanced on her as she swayed on her feet, and readied his blade, aiming for her stomach –

– but before he could drive the weapon home, Piper heard a dull, wet clunking sound. Through hazy eyes she saw Richter collapsing to his knees and falling flat on his face, a large welt blooming on the back of his scalp, and then as her vision refocused itself, she saw Rachel standing behind him, a heavy wrench hanging loosely from her left hand as she wobbled on her feet and clutched at her side with her other arm before falling to one knee, her breaths noisily scraping themselves from her lungs. She felt a pang of horror as she saw the blood soaking through Blue's clothes and across her skin. Her lover's eyes were swollen and bruised, and the angry discolouration and crumpled appearance of her right cheek and eye socket clearly indicated that they had been aggressively shattered. Piper had seen enough combat to recognise those kinds of wounds, and she knew that there was no quick fix that would be enough to heal them. A stimpak would reduce the swelling and the chance of the damage getting any worse, but that was all. She realised she had to get Blue to Knight-Captain Cade for surgery as soon as possible – but for now all she could do was try to get her mobile again. She bent down and helped Blue to lie on her back before she reached into one of Blue's ruined jacket's numerous pockets and pulled out a single syringe, jamming its stub of a needle into the gaping wound on the other woman's shoulder and emptying its contents directly into her bloodstream. She realised that it wasn't an ideal location, but it was the most efficient one, and efficiency was the only thing she needed right now. _Come back, Blue,_ she pleaded silently. _Come back to me._

Her heart broke as she heard Blue scream in agony, the stimpak's chemicals entering the exposed, shredded muscle under her collarbone like fire, but almost instantaneously, the smaller cuts and bruises on Blue's body began visibly zipping themselves closed and vanishing against her ashen-white skin. It was working. The other woman stirred, the inflamed skin around her eyes beginning to return to its normal colour underneath the crimson stains.

"Hey," she croaked through cracked lips, raising the slack fingers of her right hand upwards to trace a line down Piper's cheek. Piper almost burst into tears, the chaos around her almost an afterthought as the woman she loved looked hazily back at her.

"Hey," she said simply. "You want to get out of here?"


	10. For Want of A Nail

_Three stimpaks left._

Rachel could feel the fractured bones of her cheek and eye socket grinding against each other with every step she took, but the burning sensation of the sharp edges jabbing into her flesh was almost completely dulled by the large dose of Med-X Piper had forced on her, despite her slurred protests to the contrary. She usually hated painkillers because she felt they took her edge off and made her less responsive, but right now she was actually grateful for the lack of sensation, since Grand Zealot Richter's assault had left her battered, bloody and exhausted, feeling like she was being held together by nothing but strength of will.

That was definitely what she needed right now, though, as the gaggle of ragged prisoners had begun to make their escape from the Children of Atom's submarine base. Fortunately they weren't alone any longer – Zealot Ware had organised a rearguard action of a dozen or so armed cultists who alternated between helping the less mobile members of the party and covering the escapees from the pursuing faction of Children still faithful to Tektus. Not that it had saved all of the captives, unfortunately – one of the Commonwealth settlers had caught a bullet in the back of his throat as he and his wife cleared the door of the base, and as his wife had instinctively stopped to try to help him, the loyalists had grabbed her and started dragging her back into the base. Seeing the settler struggling against the horde of hostile cultists, Captain Avery had aimed and fired her rifle without hesitation, putting several rounds through the woman's head and body. Rachel had looked at her in momentary shock and disbelief, but all Avery had done to justify herself was to say "Better she die fast, not slow," and then start moving again. As much as Rachel hadn't wanted to agree with it, that explanation made immediate sense – more than once she'd had to make tough on-the-spot decisions regarding her soldiers as both a Brotherhood officer and as the general of the Minutemen, so she recognised the logic. No matter how many times she faced those kinds of choices, though, it never got any easier.

And so they had fled from the _Nucleus_ as fast as possible, towards the north, with a small force of Tektus's disciples behind them and the dangers of the island in front, lurking in the thick, choking mist. Fortunately, it hadn't taken long for the faithful of the _Nucleus_ to retreat back to their fortress – clearly they had decided that the numerous horrors of the island would take care of the renegades for them. When Rachel was sure the pursuit had ended, she led her bedraggled flock to the ruined drive-in at Eden Meadows and had given out all of the Rad-X and RadAway she'd found in her pockets to the sick Commonwealth settlers. It was enough to make them able to walk mostly unaided, but it wasn't enough to get them back to anything resembling full health, so she had to hope that they would hold together long enough for Knight-Captain Cade to heal them properly. For now, though, she and Piper were the only things standing between them and disaster.

As the drive-in's giant projector screen loomed ahead of them, its reflected light painting shapes on the ground in front of it, Rachel paused, coming to a complete stop and indicating that the former prisoners should do the same. She glanced at Piper and silently pointed towards the left side of the wide-open parking lot. Piper nodded, immediately understanding what Rachel wanted her to do, and moved silently towards the edge of the cracked, broken tarmac, her pistol raised and her finger hooked around its trigger. Rachel turned towards Captain Avery and said "Last time Piper and I were here we were attacked by a whole pack of ferals. Stay here and we'll sweep the area to make sure they haven't come back." She attempted a reassuring smile but her shattered cheek's protestations stopped her from doing so. Instead she simply reached out and briefly touched Avery's callused hand to try to pep her up.

Visibly disgusted, Avery drew her hand back and snorted in disbelief. "Don't be so damn stupid, mainlander. You can barely stand," she said, before she held up her rifle. "Besides, I have a better weapon than you. Let me go."

"I'm fine," Rachel snapped sharply, every word feeling like knives dragging themselves across the inside of her face, "and that better weapon needs to stay here; you have to protect the group. We've got back-up now, but Piper and I can still move faster on our own." She shrugged, deciding to offer a concession. "If we need you, we'll holler. Okay?"

Avery scowled. "Fine." For a fleeting moment, her lined, severe features softened. "Be careful."

Rachel gave the Captain a silent nod of acknowledgement as she moved in the opposite direction to Piper, keeping the rifle she'd taken from the corpse of one of the fallen Children in the _Nucleus_ at eye level, its stock braced snugly into her shoulder, after first popping open the pistol-holster at her waist.

Her worst fears were confirmed when she advanced far enough into the drive-in to see a pack of ghouls feasting on the corpse of a giant angler. They had obviously mobbed it to death and then dragged its body from the rusting van it had been using as a shelter, and now they were greedily stuffing chunks of its rich, fatty meat down their throats. As Rachel crept closer to them, she could hear their rasping, guttural growls as they squabbled over the more succulent parts of the carcass, hissing and jealously gnashing their jagged teeth at each other in between mouthfuls. She cursed under her breath when she realised she didn't have any grenades. A single explosion would have killed or incapacitated at least half of the ghouls in an instant.

 _Old-fashioned way it is, then,_ she thought sourly, taking cover behind the rust-encrusted remains of a Corvega automobile. _Show time._

When she was sure she was out of the horde's line of sight, she lined up a shot and squeezed her trigger slowly, hitting one of the ghouls loitering on the outer edge of the feeding frenzy squarely in the centre of its back. Dead before its brain even registered that its chest was now non-existent, the withered feral slumped forwards onto another ghoul that was elbow-deep in angler guts, causing the rest of the pack to turn their attention to where the shot had come from, sniffing at the air to try to catch any kind of clues. In their moment of confusion, Rachel heard the bark of a solitary pistol shot, and an instant later, she saw another ghoul drop to the ground and lie there gurgling and writhing in pain, its right knee shattered to splinters. A second shot reduced the creature's head to a red smear on the ground, and the pack of ghouls became even more confused and frantic as they tried to work out from where they were being attacked.

Rachel used the ghouls' disorientation to move closer to them, shouldering her rifle for a moment so that she could adjust her belt and make her chain-dagger easier to access. Stealth was one thing, but being able to defend herself against feral ghouls at both long and short range was just as important. She'd learned to her cost that ferals frequently attacked faster and more viciously than fully human foes, their sharp claws and teeth always ready to rend flesh from bone – the large bite-mark scar in the centre of her left forearm bore harsh witness to that – so it was wise to have every weapon just a fingertip away, especially when she wasn't enclosed in her full suit of Brotherhood plate and didn't have that extra layer of protection to rely on.

When she'd finished shifting her dagger, she unhooked her rifle again and began creeping forwards carefully, taking the opportunity to pick off a couple more of the shambling beasts as they started to lope around in search of their attackers, having completely forgotten about their still largely-intact kill. With their rabid scramble for food over for the moment, the swarm of ghouls was once again united behind a single goal, and that made them infinitely more dangerous. Rachel briefly looked over to where Piper was crouching behind some jagged metal debris, seeing the reporter taking aim at another of their targets, her pistol barking twice in quick succession and hitting an unfortunate ghoul in the shoulder and throat. Taking advantage of the moment, Rachel took another few steps forward, keeping as silent as possible –

– until a sharp snap came from beneath her boot, a brittle twig breaking in half under her weight. The feral closest to her whipped its head around as it heard the noise, ropes of drool rapidly spilling from its mouth and its yellow eyes filling with bottomless rage. An instant later it charged, growling and slobbering as it reached out towards her with its broken, ragged talons, ready to tear her to pieces and cram them between its teeth. Rachel put a bullet through one of its eyes, causing it to collapse bonelessly to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, but it was only the first of the onrushing tide of rotting flesh that had begun to surge toward her. She began to track backwards, unloading bullet after bullet into the wall of bodies until her rifle cycled dry with a metallic click. She cursed, throwing it contemptuously to the ground before drawing her pistol and dropping another three of the blood-maddened ferals before they got too close for her to properly line up her shots. Firing randomly into the throng until that weapon was empty as well, she fell back while also readying her chain-dagger to fend off those ghouls closest to her. When the first of them lunged at her, she slashed at its outstretched arm, the teeth of the blade carving a bloody chunk out of its flesh and painting the ground with droplets of liquefied, mushy gristle. Undeterred by the fact that its right hand was almost completely severed, the dead-eyed monster sprang forwards without hesitation, hissing and growling as it did so. Its jaws clamped down hard onto Rachel's collarbone as it barrelled her to the ground, close to the still-tender spot where Grand Zealot Richter had stabbed her, and then ripped a mouthful of her flesh free. It didn't get a chance to enjoy its morsel, though – an instant after it had raised its head to let the mouthful of fresh meat slide down its gullet, the side of its skull imploded as a pistol round punched through its temple. Her face spotted with blood from both the ghoul and herself, Rachel risked a sideways glance to see where the shot had come from, and saw Zealots Ware and Theil advancing shoulder to shoulder, their rifles firing in short, controlled bursts. When the last of the ghouls had been despatched, Zealot Ware knelt down beside her, a look of concern etched on his craggy features. "You know, Emissary, you could have sent us in first. We're yours to command – why not take some weight off your shoulders and let Theil and me handle things like this?"

Even through the pain of the sizeable bite wound, Rachel couldn't stop herself from laughing before she wiped the blood off her face with her sleeve, immediately wincing as her broken face protested at her amusement. "Thanks for the offer, Ware, but like my husband always used to tell me: the leader who stays in the rear takes it in the rear. " She paused, feeling a touch of embarrassment burning briefly across her cheeks. "He never was much good with words, but I know what he meant. I'm a leader – I should lead. Set an example. Be someone who inspires others." Reaching into a pocket she drew out a stimpak, jabbing the needle into the skin near her injury and pushing the plunger, releasing the contents of the syringe into her body. In a few seconds the bite mark was nothing more than an irregular oval of ridged, puckered tissue, another badge of honour to accompany the generous tally of scars already scattered across her body, and the pain in her face faded to a dull ache again as the fractured bones knitted themselves a little closer together. "If it makes you feel better, I'll try to remember to ask you to do this next time. No promises, though."

Ware raised his eyebrows. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

"We'll see," Rachel told him. "Now how about we start getting these people somewhere they can get some decent rest?"

 _Two stimpaks left._

 _One stimpak left._

Rachel watched as the smaller wounds of the bloodied settler sealed in moments after the stimpak's almost miraculous elixir had begun to flow through him. After making camp at the drive-in overnight, the group had been making good progress until they had run into a swarm of hungry mirelurks. One of them, a heavily-scarred hunter with thick ropes of acidic saliva dripping from its clicking mandibles, had managed to almost disembowel one of the weaker escapees because he had reacted too slowly to escape its brutal pincers. Had it not been for the swift actions of a pair of her congregation, who had bisected the beast with two bursts of irradiated rifle bullets, he would have been dead in a heartbeat. As it was, he'd been lucky to only lose a hand, his arm now ending in a ragged stump that Sister Emily had bound with several strips of cloth she'd torn from her own robes. He would still need qualified medical attention to really help the healing process, of course – and she pitied Knight-Captain Cade a little for that, considering how busy he was going to be once all the prisoners had been evacuated to the _Prydwen_ – but for now a makeshift bandage would have to suffice.

Kneeling down beside the man, Rachel entwined the fingers of his remaining hand between her own and squeezed them tightly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "You're going to be fine," she said, the words ringing hollow in her ears even as she spoke them. "I need you to stay strong for me now, okay? The Brotherhood of Steel will be there for us when we get to the mainland, I promise. We'll make sure you get well again."

"The Brotherhood of Steel?" the man mumbled through pale lips, a look of confusion briefly contorting his waxy, unresponsive face. "Didn't think you people cared about us ordinary folks."

Rachel shook her head emphatically. "Believe me when I tell you that the Brotherhood cares about everyone in the Commonwealth," she said, slipping off her tattered jacket off her shoulders and rolling up the sleeve of her undershirt to reveal the emblem of the Brotherhood on her shoulder before gesturing to the Latin phrase etched indelibly into her skin underneath it. "See these words here? 'Ad victoriam' is our motto – it means 'to victory'. When we all get back to the Commonwealth, that'll be our victory, and I want you to be there to see it." She looked to one side, meeting Sister Emily's concerned gaze as she did so. "Take care of him the best you can, sister."

"As you command, Emissary," Sister Emily said, bowing her head for a moment, before she turned her attention back to the settler, who had mercifully drifted off into unconsciousness, and wiped his brow free of sweat with her sleeve. As Rachel began walking away, she heard the younger woman quickly barking instructions at two other Children, telling them to fashion a stretcher and place the wounded man on it so he could be moved more easily, and for a moment she felt a little involuntary twinge of pride. Perhaps Piper had been right about her wanting a disciple after all – although given the choice she would have preferred the term 'aspirant', considering her loyalty lay more with Elder Maxson and the technology of the Brotherhood than with the convoluted mysticism of Atom's followers. Either way, it was reassuring to have a steady hand like Sister Emily at her side.

 _Maybe I should ask her if she wants to sign up,_ she thought, a little absently. _At least I know she can follow orders well._ She shook that notion from her mind almost instantly and refocused her attention on the rest of her charges. Most of them looked exhausted, their hunched and wilted body language saying more than any words could at that point. As she tried to assess the situation as fully as she could, she found Piper at her side, a deeply concerned frown creasing her forehead and casting a shadow across her cheeks, which were already stained with faint trails of viscous green mirelurk blood. "I'm worried about these people, Blue," she said in a low, soft tone. "I don't think any of them have had anything decent to eat in days."

Rachel nodded in agreement. "You're probably right," she said, before she aimed a gesture of her thumb towards the numerous mirelurk corpses strewn around inside the defence perimeter that Ware and Theil had established with around half a dozen of their subordinates. "Good thing we have a big pile of food there, right?"

"As long as you're doing the cooking? Absolutely," Piper said, cracking a brief smile which instantly lifted Rachel's mood, as Piper's smiles almost always did. "Never could master seafood myself – too much preparation time involved for a reporter on the road all the time, you know? At least with a mole-rat you can just slice it up and have it ready to go in half an hour."

"Sure," Rachel began, "but doesn't that get boring after a while?"

"You should know me better than this by now, Blue," Piper replied, chuckling. "Practicality beats variety every time."

"I guess so," Rachel said, raising her eyebrows briefly before she got to her feet and drew her chain-blade. "Let me gather up a few people and we can get dinner going…"

About an hour and a half later, Rachel was sat around a large campfire and chewing on one of a handful of ragged, bite-sized pieces of roasted mirelurk meat from the feast which she and several members of her congregation (as well as a few of the Commonwealth settlers) had helped to prepare. The misshapen baubles of pale white flesh were a little rubbery and salty underneath their crispy exterior, but that was par for the course with this kind of food, so she had let it go. However she found the meat, though, it seemed the former prisoners were grateful for it. Some of them were actually starting to relax and look cheerful as they devoured their meals, which lifted Rachel's mood to no end. She even felt her own bunched muscles loosening up a little for what seemed like the first time in years as Piper slid closer to her and rested her head on her shoulder. She set down the greasy chunk of mirelurk carapace she'd been using as a makeshift plate and put her arm around her girlfriend, kissing her on the forehead almost reflexively as she drew the smaller woman to her, trying to shield her from the evening's gathering chill.

"You okay, Blue?" Piper asked, looking up at Rachel with a curious expression on her face. "Cap for your thoughts?"

Rachel smiled, gently threading her fingers through Piper's as she did so. "Just enjoying the fire and the company, that's all." She laughed. "The food wasn't bad, either, if I do say so myself."

"I gotta say, you do make good mirelurk cakes," Piper agreed. "Still not convinced it's better than mole-rat, though."

"You're a lost cause, Piper Wright, you realise that?"

"Yeah," Piper said, "but I also realise there's nobody else I'd rather be lost with."

"You always know just what to say, don't you?"  
"So people tell me," Piper replied, examining the nails of her free hand casually. "In between telling me to stop printing lies or go jump off a cliff, anyway."

"I guess I'd better stop doing that, then, huh?" Rachel asked, a smile quirking itself across her lips for a moment.

"That would be nice, yeah," Piper said, caressing the cusp of Rachel's jawline before she gently turned the other woman's face towards her and softly pressed their lips together for a moment. "Consider that an incentive."

"I just might do that," Rachel told her, briefly running a hand through Piper's hair. "You're pretty persuasive, after all."

"That's what I like to hear." Piper traced a single fingertip down the bridge of Rachel's nose before tapping its tip playfully. "It does make my job a lot easier, after all."

Before Rachel could respond, however, she heard a yell from the other end of the camp, a single word full of terror and urgency.

 _"Deathclaw!"_

Immediately Rachel scrambled to her feet, cursing herself for allowing herself to believe even for a moment that she was safe. She grabbed her rifle and swung around to try to determine where the shout had come from, and then she saw the hulking mass of the beast encroaching on the edge of the camp. As large as it was, even through the distance between her and the monster, she saw that the deathclaw's horns were not as fully-formed as they should have been, indicating that it was most likely an adolescent which had not yet learned that large groups of armed humans were usually something to be avoided. She guessed it had been drawn to their location by the smell of the mound of butchered mirelurk carcasses while looking for an easy meal, and hadn't expected to find so many other hungry mouths willing to fight to defend their kill. The brute loped inside the defence perimeter, shrugging off individual bullets without a second thought as they either ricocheted off or lodged themselves into its thick armoured hide, and started to lash out at any of her flock foolish enough to get within range of its meat-cleaver talons.

Feeling a familiar sense of resolve clamping down on her shoulders again, a twinge of pain sparking through her cheek as it did so, Rachel glanced briefly at Piper, who had already unholstered her own gun. "Divide and conquer again?" she suggested, gesturing towards the lumbering monstrosity as it impaled an unlucky Child of Atom directly through the stomach, tore his twitching body in half and began slurping his warm, steaming guts from his upper torso after it had casually tossed his detached, mangled legs aside like a broken toy. Rachel felt her gorge rise watching the deathclaw feasting on its prey, but she fought back the urge to vomit, nevertheless still feeling the acidic sting of bile at the back of her throat. Using the monster's momentary distraction to circle around it, she raised her rifle, exhaled gently and then unloaded a short, controlled burst towards the small gap in its armour. Most of the bullets bounced back off the thick interconnected plates, but two rounds managed to hit the precise divide between two sections of the tough protective tissue, burying themselves deep into the muscle beneath it.

The deathclaw bellowed, enraged, and flung away what was left of the cultist's body as it turned to face her. It snorted out a single breath and cocked its head a little, as if it couldn't quite fathom why a single small creature would dare to challenge it. Then it bared its bloodied fangs, flexed its claws and prepared to charge, before Piper's gun barked out a single shot behind it, the round serving as little more than a distraction – but an effective distraction nevertheless, as the deathclaw glared balefully in the direction the attack had come from, snarling in annoyance and spraying thick ropes of pink-tinged drool down its chin. Rachel wasn't sure if this particular tactic would work as well against the deathclaw as it had against the ghouls at the drive-in, but anything that allowed her flock to evacuate the settlers and Far Harbor residents as quickly as possible was worth a try. She advanced cautiously on the creature, loosing another couple of rounds towards it, but this time only causing the bullets to bounce off its armour. The deathclaw whirled around to face her again, and judging by the rage burning in its yellow eyes, the last of its patience had finally evaporated. It broke into a charge then, its footfalls almost shaking the ground. In between every thunderous impact of the monster's taloned feet, Rachel could hear Piper's pistol firing in a panicky, staccato fashion as she tried unsuccessfully to draw the deathclaw's attention back to her.

The brute had picked its target, it seemed, and this time trying to distract the enemy was not going to pay off. Rachel steeled herself for the deathclaw's attack, but before it could unleash its murderous rage, a fusillade of rifle fire rang out from behind her. She risked a glance backwards as the deathclaw reeled from the sustained barrage that was being poured onto it. Zealots Ware and Theil, along with Sister Emily and Brother Joseph, were advancing as part of a tight formation formed by her disciples. Their unrelenting barrage of bullets and plasma fire caused the giant creature to stumble backwards for a moment, screeching in frustration, before it turned tail and began padding swiftly away in the opposite direction. Apparently it had decided that the mound of free mirelurk meat was not worth being shot at and had chosen to make its escape before it got hurt any further.

As it moved off over a rise about fifty metres away from the camp, Zealot Ware shouldered his rifle and bowed his head respectfully. "I told you, Emissary," he began, "Zealot Theil and I would handle this kind of thing ourselves from now on. I didn't want to make myself a liar."

"Thank you, Ware," Rachel said, taking his right hand in a firm handshake before briefly embracing him. "Just this once I'll let you save the day."

Ware's craggy face broke into a rare smile as she drew herself back. "The Emissary blesses me with her gratitude. I'll try not to waste it."

He was about to speak again when a deafening howl sounded out from just beyond the rise the young monster had retreated behind, and moments later a massive deathclaw a full head taller than the adolescent they thought they had driven off stalked out into view, the smaller animal following behind it. Looking at the fully-developed horns and the bright dappled markings on the larger beast's scar-covered hide, Rachel could see it was an older female, very probably the parent of the youngster trying to teach it how to hunt on its own. If she had to guess, the matriarch had seen what its offspring could do and was not impressed, so now it was going to give its hapless young a demonstration of how a hunt ought to go.

"Fall back!" Rachel cried as loudly as she could, realising that two deathclaws working in tandem was not a threat to be treated lightly, especially with the number of sick and wounded settlers. Better to let the monsters have their free meal than to fight them and end up as extra meat. "Fall back, now!"

As the rest of her congregation scrambled to evacuate the camp as quickly as possible, Rachel pointed towards the two monsters and said "We need to make sure those things head straight for the mirelurk shells instead of following us. Pull back in pairs, keep some distance between us and keep your fingers on the trigger, but don't fire unless you absolutely have to. No need for any more losses."

Ware and Theil nodded in acknowledgement, raising their weapons to cover Sister Emily and Brother Joseph as they started to retreat. After a couple of minutes, Ware and Theil followed suit, leaving Rachel and Piper to watch the deathclaws amble through the remains of the camp, their nostrils flaring as they padded towards the pile of mirelurk carcasses. The mother huffed at her offspring, indicating for it to stay behind her. When she was sure that the youngster would stay still, she stalked forwards and picked up the mirelurk corpse closest to her, sniffing the carcass curiously and licking it once or twice as if she was making absolutely sure it was edible. Then she began tearing the body apart, throwing away the hard carapace and digging into the entrails with her snout, growling to herself in a satisfied fashion between messy mouthfuls of greenish flesh. When she had finished her meal, she swung around and called out to her youngster to let it know everything was safe. The youngster cocked its head slightly before it approached the waiting banquet, and then settled on its haunches to tuck in.

"Looks like they're busy, Blue," Piper said. "Let's go."

"Good idea," Rachel agreed, pushing herself to her feet and getting ready to rejoin the rest of the group. "Guess they'll be busy for a while."

Unfortunately, the moment she chose to start moving was the moment the deathclaw youngster angled its head up to swallow a large chunk of mirelurk meat, and then spotted her and Piper. In an instant, furious, it threw its meal aside and bellowed at the women as they tried to retreat. The mother deathclaw looked in the direction her offspring had indicated, pausing before she roared and launched herself into a charge, obviously angry at the puny creatures who had thwarted her young's hunt. The mother picked up speed in the blink of an eye, a juggernaut of teeth and claws, thundering towards Rachel and Piper with murder in her eyes. She swiped at Rachel with such force that Rachel was lifted clean off her feet and thrown through the air, three long, searing lines of pain blossoming diagonally along the front of her body at the same time.

She skidded several metres when she met the ground, feeling three ribs crack as she did so. Breathing became agonising. Her vision was full of stars. Her equilibrium was completely scrambled. Concepts of up and down, of past and future, became meaningless. Blood filled her mouth, hot and metallic against her tongue. All she could hear was the triumphant, guttural roar of the monster that would shortly be devouring her. Through her disorientation, she braced herself for the white-hot pain of the mother deathclaw's jaws clamping around her body and ripping her into tiny pieces, but it never came.

Instead, she felt a hand gripping her shoulder. It took a few moments for her ears to stop ringing and for her vision to coalesce into something more clear than an unruly swirl of colour, at which point she found herself lying on a makeshift stretcher. She saw Piper kneeling at her side, an anxious look on her face. Her lips were moving but Rachel's ears were so full of static that she couldn't hear her until the clutter began to fade.

" – can you hear me?" Piper said, her voice unusually frail. "Give me a sign you're okay, Blue. _Please._ "

Rachel tried to speak but her mouth wouldn't cooperate at first, a liquid gurgle all it could initially manage. Nevertheless it was enough for Piper's tear-filled eyes to brighten just a little. She grasped Rachel's limp left hand and kissed it reverently. "Oh, thank God," the younger woman breathed. "Stay still. We'll keep you safe, I promise." She reached into Rachel's jacket and drew out her last stimpak, jabbing it into Rachel's arm and pressing down the plunger. Once again she found herself thanking whoever invented stimpaks as she felt her wounds sealing themselves. Her cracked ribs still hurt like hell, but at least the pain was numbed a little.

"Where are we?" Rachel slurred as her mouth began grudgingly responding again. "How long was I out? What happened to the deathclaw?" As her vision continued to gather itself she saw Zealots Ware and Theil standing to either side of her, with Sister Emily flanking them, her hands clasped so tightly together that her knuckles were almost glowing white. The young girl was mumbling a constant stream of prayers under her breath, her lips moving almost imperceptibly quickly as she squeezed her fingers almost to the point where she might tear them off.

"We're about half a day's travel away from Far Harbor, you've been asleep for almost six hours," Ware began, "and from what we can tell, it looked like that deathclaw just wanted to teach you a lesson about not interfering with its kids. The way you fell seemed to make it think you were dead, so it went back to its food instead of attacking anyone else." He glanced down at his rifle, patting it almost affectionately. "We helped put any… _lingering doubts_ to rest, though." Another uncharacteristic smile. "That's two you owe me, Emissary."

"I guess so," Rachel began, before she tried to rise and coughed up a lump of bloody mucus.

"Easy, easy," Piper admonished her. "Stay still. You need to let that stimpak take effect first."

"Gladly," Rachel said, feeling the spittle spill down her chin before Piper drew her handkerchief out of her coat's sleeve and used it to wipe the pinkish fluid away.

"There you go," she said, smiling. "Beautiful again. Now you let us carry you to the dock, and then we'll be back in the Commonwealth before you know it, honey. I promise."

 _No stimpaks left._

 _No stimpaks left._

It had taken Rachel's flock a little longer to reach Far Harbor then Ware had anticipated, thanks to an ambush set by a pack of radiation-enhanced wolves. Rachel had wished she could have taken part but her body felt like a well-worn punching bag and she had had to lie helplessly while Piper and Sister Emily covered her prone form, cutting down several of the pack that tried to get to her. Now they had arrived at the dock after Ware had scouted ahead, bringing news of the Emissary's condition to the Children still occupying the town. Some of them had protested, demanding that they be allowed to nurse her back to health, but Ware had insisted that they let her return to the Commonwealth for proper treatment. Zealot Theil and Sister Emily had carried her onto the dock where the faithful crowded around her in shock. In a hoarse, throaty voice she had told them that she had let the residents of Far Harbor return to their home, and that they should not be harmed, but rather welcomed back as brothers and sisters, and then she had told her flock from the _Nucleus_ to stay with them to rebuild the town, make it stronger, and help keep it safe.

She didn't know how long that truce would hold, but she hoped it would be enough to establish a more secure island, at least for the moment. Now she lay on the deck of Kenji Nakano's automated boat, which was being followed by Allen Lee's fishing vessel, full of the kidnapped settlers. Unsurprisingly, Allen had not been pleased to have his boat borrowed, but had agreed on the insistence of Captain Avery. She supposed he would be hoping this was the last time he would ever see her, which gave her a little amusement to distract her from her pain.

Upon arriving at the dock outside the Nakano residence, Piper and Sister Emily helped Rachel to lie on their stretcher while the rest of the settlers disembarked, relief at finally being home etching itself all over their haggard features. As they carried Rachel off the deck, all three members of the Nakano family emerged from their house, looking shocked and awed by the small crowd. "Bring her inside," Kenji said quickly. "We can give her a place to rest."

"No," Rachel said shakily, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I need to use Kasumi's radio to call the _Prydwen –"_ A fit of coughing interrupted her words, and Piper instinctively reached out to try to help her get through the stabbing pain in her chest. Rachel clung to her as she tried to stand and kept holding on as the two of them climbed the stairs to Kasumi's room. Sitting down next to the radio she picked up the microphone and tuned the radio carefully to the Brotherhood's unique frequency. " _Prydwen_ Actual, this is Survivor. Do you copy, over?" she began, but got only static in return. "I say again, _Prydwen_ Actual, this is Survivor. Please respond, over."

For a few moments it seemed like nothing would come of the transmission, but then a voice crackled through on the other end. " _Prydwen_ Actual to Survivor, we read you. It's good to hear your voice again, ma'am, over." She recognised the voice as that of Initiate Ellis, a young former farmer who she had personally recruited into the ranks of the Brotherhood after the fall of the Institute. She liked him, even if he was a little over-excited in his approach to his duties and hadn't quite attained the right level of discipline necessary for his posting. Still, it was good to hear any familiar voice from the _Prydwen_ , so she felt a tangible sense of relief. "What can we do for you, over?"

" _Prydwen_ Actual, I need immediate evac – I have wounded civilians here who need treatment ASAP. Send as many Vertibirds as you can spare, over."

"Acknowledged, Survivor," Initiate Ellis said. "Send us your coordinates and we'll have you back here in no time, over."

Rachel checked her Pip-Boy's map for a moment and then relayed her position. "Get here as soon as you can, _Prydwen_ Actual. These people really need our help, over."

"We'll try, Survivor. Over and out."

As the radio fell silent, Rachel felt Piper's arms crossing themselves over her shoulders, and felt her lover's lips delicately brushing her cheek. "You did it, Blue. You saved the day."

"I hope so," Rachel said, exhaling heavily. "I guess all we can do now is sit and wait."

"Fine by me," Piper replied. "Wanna make out to pass the time?"

"Very tempting," Rachel said, "but I should check on the settlers first. They need to be ready to leave as soon as those Vertibirds arrive."

Piper rolled her eyes. "Spoilsport."

"I'm in command. It comes with the territory." She stood and held out her hand. "Help me downstairs, please?" Piper grasped her fingers and then drew her closer, draping Rachel's arm over her shoulder before supporting her as the two women moved back downstairs.

As soon as they made it back into the lounge, they found Brother Joseph and Sister Emily waiting for them. Rachel let go of Piper and stepped towards the two allies who had made her insane plan viable.

She turned to look at Piper. "Can you give us a moment alone?" she asked.

"Sure," Piper agreed. "I'll be just outside. I need a cigarette anyway." She opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, and, sensing Rachel's need for privacy, the three members of the Nagano family followed suit.

When they were alone, Rachel embraced both of her disciples. "You two did well today," she said, feeling a twinge of pride. "I'm sure you made Atom very proud."

"Thank you, Emissary," Sister Emily whispered, her head still angled towards the floor. "You honour me." Rachel touched her fingers to the younger woman's chin and lifted it up so that she could meet her gaze as warmly as possible.

"You honour yourself, sister," she said firmly. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Then she turned to Brother Joseph, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And you did just as well, brother. Atom smiles on y–"

The gunshot was deafening, a blazing pain spreading through her guts. She looked down and saw the pistol in Brother Joseph's hand. He smiled a gargoyle smile, sadistic glee in his eyes. "Did you really think I trusted you, 'Emissary'?" he gloated, before he turned his head and looked at Sister Emily, whose horrified expression spoke volumes. "Time to go back to the _Nucleus_ , sister," he said. "Tektus will need us to rebuild. Help me finish off this pretender and we can be home again within a few days." Rachel felt her legs folding beneath her until she was on her knees, the bullet wound in her stomach tearing slightly as she hit the ground. Brother Joseph clicked back the hammer on his pistol and pointed it directly at Rachel's heart. "We'll make Atom's will a reality together, just like we always dreamed."

"No," Sister Emily snarled, tears flowing down her face as she drew her plasma pistol and curled her finger around the trigger. "No, brother. If you kill the Emissary, I swear to Atom I'll kill you here and now. I swear it." She sniffed back a trickle of fluid from her nose. "I mean it, brother. Don't make me choose."

Brother Joseph smirked. "You wouldn't dare. I know how you feel about me. You couldn't kill me even if you wanted to –" Before he could even finish speaking, his head became wreathed in searing plasma which swiftly turned his flesh to sizzling mush. The smell filled Rachel's nostrils over and above the scent of her own blood, which flowed over her hands as she clutched at her belly. She heard the front door being flung open as Sister Emily fell to the ground, wailing as she put her head in her hands, Piper rushing to her side and immediately cradling her as she felt consciousness ebbing away. "Don't die on me, Blue," she begged. "Not now. Not when we're so close." Rachel felt her eyelids fluttering, the world going dark and cold. As consciousness slipped away from her, she heard Piper's desperate begging. "Come back to me, Blue. Come back to me."

 _No stimpaks left._

 _No stimpaks left._


	11. No Way Home

Piper watched helplessly as Blue was loaded onto a stretcher and moved tentatively onto a vertibird, Brotherhood field medics fitting an oxygen mask onto her grey-tinged, crimson-speckled face and connecting a drip to her arm, packing her ragged gut wound with gauze and trying to staunch the blood pulsing inexorably from her body so that she could be as stable as possible during her evacuation to the _Prydwen._ Piper had never felt so redundant in her life – all she could do was sit by Blue's side and hold her limp and unresponsive hand tightly, so tightly that her knuckles were bleached white. _Don't die, Blue,_ she kept repeating to herself, feeling desperation chewing relentlessly at her guts like a hungry animal stripping a carcass.

The ride to the _Prydwen_ felt like it took an eternity, the mighty airship's medical staff immediately rushing to the aid of the field medics as they scrambled to get Blue to Knight-Captain Cade's surgical table before she bled out on her stretcher. When she had been prepped for the operation, Cade shooed everyone out except his most senior assistant, sealing the medical bay as tightly as possible.

Hours went by as Piper sat in the mess hall alone, or so it seemed. Sure, there were other members of the Brotherhood all around her – some of them even tried to engage with her to offer support – but she felt completely detached from her surroundings, unable to really connect with the men and women trying to keep her spirits up. She even felt one of them drape a blanket over her shoulders in an attempt to make her more comfortable, but eventually they realised they weren't getting through to her and left her to her own devices, letting her stew in her own lost count of how many cigarettes she had smoked and how many bottles of lukewarm Nuka-Cola she had drunk, the twin tastes of tobacco and sugar mingling thickly on her tongue. All she could think about was the horrible possibility that the woman she loved might bleed to death only a few metres away from her, and she would be completely powerless to stop it. That thought terrified her more than anything she could remember.

Her introspection was only broken when she felt a hand on her shoulder, making her come back to reality with a start, her heart leaping into her mouth in an instant. She looked up with her red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes and found herself meeting the piercing gaze of Elder Maxson, an uncharacteristic expression of concern on his scarred face.

Piper scowled. "Go away, _Arthur_ ," she snarled contemptuously. "I don't need you to patronise me right now."

"I'm not here to patronise you, Miss Wright," Maxson said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table to her. When Piper stood up and tried to move away, he reached out and took hold of her left wrist as gently as he could, drawing her back down to her seat. "I know you disapprove of the Brotherhood's methods, but believe me when I tell you that Sentinel Adams – Rachel – is one of the finest officers under my command, and one of the few people I would feel confident enough to call a friend. I care about her a great deal, and from what the rescued settlers and medical staff told me, the only reason she's back on board this ship at all is because you kept her alive more than once. It seems her faith in you was well-placed, so thank you. I owe you an apology."

"I don't want your gratitude _or_ your apologies!" Piper snapped, yanking her hand back. "I want my best friend not to die just because she decided to follow you!" She turned and started to stalk away, fury bubbling dangerously at the corners of her thoughts.

She hadn't made it more than a few steps before Maxson exclaimed "She's not going to die, you know. The surgery was a complete success."

Those few words froze Piper in place for a moment, before she rounded on Maxson again, her curiosity getting the better of her. "How do you –"

"Knight-Captain Cade contacted me to let me know he had finished operating on her ten minutes before I came here to find you," Maxson explained, standing and walking around the table to look her directly in the eye as he spoke. "I wanted to give you the good news myself."

Piper felt a lurching sensation in her gut that she hoped was relief. "She's out of surgery? Can I see her?"

"You'd have to ask Cade that, I'm afraid," Maxson said with a shrug. "He may want to let her rest." He paused. "For whatever it's worth, I hope he lets you see her."

"So do I," Piper replied, before she experienced a bizarre twinge of guilt for her treatment of the Elder she usually felt at best ambivalent towards. "Thank you – for coming to see me, I mean."

Maxson folded his arms. "You're welcome," he said in a tone that Piper supposed was supposed to be aloof, but which she could tell was tinged with a sense of relief. Maybe he had a heart under all that Brotherhood dogma after all.

She wasn't going to hold her breath about that, though.

Excusing herself briefly, she made her way to the medical bay, her heart rising into the back of her throat so hard she almost felt she might choke on it. Just before she reached the entrance she took a deep breath, wiped at her eyes, smoothed out her hair and adjusted her hat nervously before she passed through the doorway, almost bumping directly into Knight-Captain Cade as she did so. "I'm sorry," she said hurriedly. "I didn't think you'd –"

"It's all right, miss. No harm done," Cade said in a calming tone. "I suppose you're here to see Sentinel Adams, yes?" He gestured to the bed furthest away from the door, which had been separated from the rest of the bay by several curtains. "She's just through there. Don't expect any conversation, though; I decided to keep her under sedation for at least the next few hours. It'll give her body some time to adjust to the stitches."

"Can't you just use a stimpak?" Piper asked, her reporter's curiosity getting the better of her for a moment.

Cade sighed. "In a word? No. Stimpaks are good when you need a quick fix out in the field, but behind the lines I prefer to use more… traditional methods, methods which don't involve speeding up the body's metabolism to borderline-dangerous levels. At this point what Sentinel Adams requires the most is rest, so my medical judgement is that I will let her sleep. But then again, I suppose you're not really here for my medical judgement, so you can sit with her as long as you like – just tell me when you're done so I can close off the area again." He drew back the curtain to reveal Blue hooked up to a ventilator, her chest and arms swathed in bandages and fresh stitches laid across the skin of her torso like railroad tracks, holding together the long, thin wounds left by the mother deathclaw's talons. The entire right side of her face looked angry and reddened but otherwise intact, with the smooth lines of her cheek restored and repaired. Piper sat down in the single seat by the side of the bed, after she had reached out and took hold of Blue's wrist gently, feeling her lover's heartbeat pulsing with a slow but strong rhythm underneath her fingertips. It was the most beautiful sensation she'd ever experienced.

"Oh, Blue…" she murmured almost inaudibly. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I'll… leave you to it," Cade said, and began to turn away from her before he abruptly stopped and began rummaging in his pocket for something. "Oh yes, I almost forgot – these fell out of her jacket when I was prepping her for surgery. I think she must have intended to give them to you." He reached out and pressed something into her palm before he took up a spot just outside of the medical bay in order to give her some privacy.

Piper looked down at what Cade had given her. In her hand was a small box wrapped in a ragged, crumpled piece of paper, which was edged in places with traces of crusted blood. Frowning, she unfolded the paper and saw a cacophony of scribbled notes written in hurried pencil strokes, several lines struck through with thick, decisive strokes. Intrigued, she glanced over them, and her eyes widened in shock, her heart leaping into her mouth as she tried to process what she was reading.

 _Proposal Ideas_

 _At home?_ _Too ordinary_

 _Moonlight boat ride?_ _Too cliche_

 _Picnic in Sanctuary Hills?_ _Too sappy_

 _Romantic dinner in Diamond City/Goodneighbor/Last Plank/Prydwen mess hall/where-the-fuck-ever?_ _Too public_

 _Just after we kill a deathclaw/mirelurk queen/fog crawler/something else that's big and mean?_ _I'm a massive jerk_

 _Whenever it feels right?_ _Way too vague_

 _How the fuck did Nate manage to do this?!_

Piper felt moisture beading in the corners of her eyes as she put the paper down and opened the box it had been wrapped around, revealing its contents to be a ring decorated with a small ruby circled by a cluster of diamonds. Suddenly overwhelmed, she let the box and piece of paper fall onto the surface of the bed, where they landed next to Blue's motionless arm, and turned her face to the side, one hand clasped over her mouth and nose as twin trails of tears began cascading down her face, droplets of salty water tracing their way inexorably to the corner of her lips. A muted sob escaped her throat before she regained her focus and returned her blurred gaze towards the unconscious woman lying in front of her.

"I gotta tell you, Blue," she began, wiping her cheeks and nose with the back of one hand, "the best way to ask me to marry you would just be to _ask me to marry you._ I wouldn't care how," and she intertwined her fingers with Blue's, squeezing them tightly, "because my answer would be yes however you did it. You know I love you, you big dummy – why _wouldn't_ I say yes?" A momentary sigh left her throat as she closed her eyes and rubbed the centre of her forehead with the tips of two fingers. "Did I ever tell you that my mom used to warn me about girls like you? 'Make sure you never fall for the dangerous ones, Piper,' she'd always say. 'Go for the good ones, the quiet ones, the ones without any baggage. They'll always do right by you.' I guess she'd be pretty disappointed in me now, huh? Sitting here by the most dangerous woman in the whole Commonwealth, crying like a baby. 'I told you not to go for the bad girl, Piper,' she'd say. 'She'll only break your heart.' She'd be wrong, though. Travelling with you is the best thing I've ever done, Blue – I want to do it forever." She gently removed the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. It was a little loose, she thought, but it wasn't like that couldn't be fixed later. "So yes, I'll marry you… but I'm still going to give you a piece of my mind when you wake up anyway. You owe me at least a smile for this." She chuckled despite herself and put the ring back in the box, before snapping the little container closed and slipping it into her pocket. Standing up, she bent down and planted a kiss on Blue's forehead delicately, before she tugged reflexively at the lower edge of her coat to ease out any creases and adjusted the position of her hat. "Sleep well, honey. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise. I love you." She clung to the other woman's hand for a moment before laying it gently back on the bed, turning around and walking across the room towards Knight-Captain Cade. "I'm all done," she said. "Take care of her, okay? Let me know when you bring her round."

"You'll be the first person I tell," Cade assured her. "It goes completely against protocol, but I'm sure Elder Maxson won't mind this once. He can debrief the Sentinel when I deem her good and ready to be debriefed, and not a moment sooner."

"Thank you," Piper said, before she impulsively embraced the captain, much to his apparent surprise. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"You're welcome, Miss Wright," Cade said. "Now go and get some sleep. Doctor's orders. I believe you know the way to Sentinel Adams' private quarters?"

Piper nodded, feeling fatigue finally begin chewing at her bones. "Yes, I know where they are," she said, weariness edging her words. "Guess I need the rest."

"Yes, you do," Cade said, approvingly. "Good night, miss."

It only took Piper a few minutes to reach Blue's quarters, but it felt like a marathon. After she had tapped in the room's access code and closed the hatch behind her, she stripped down to her underwear and crawled under the thin blanket and sheets of the spartan bed, gratefully closing her eyes and feeling the world melt away.

 _Good night, Blue._


	12. Knowledge Is Power

Rachel dreamed.

She dreamed of home, of family, of going out dancing at the weekend, of quiet evenings and of lazy Sundays where she didn't get out of bed until past noon, the things she'd dreamed about almost every night since she had stumbled out of the hollow tomb of Vault 111 into a world she didn't recognise anymore.

She used to dream of those first few hours of sitting in the ruins of her old house with a loaded pistol in one hand and an empty bottle of whiskey in the other, only a couple of moments away from putting the weapon to her temple and pulling the trigger because the pain and guilt of simply being alive when Nate was not had been almost too much to bear. The only thing that had stopped her ending her own life with one quick twitch of her forefinger had been the faint hope of finding her son somewhere in the insanity of the world she had been trapped in.

She used to dream of being reunited with Shaun and raising him to be like his father – a strong, confident, loving, hilarious man who seemingly knew her every thought and tried every day to be a better person, the person he thought she deserved. She used to dream of being the mother she had always expected to be one day – the caring, compassionate woman who would take care of her child in every way possible, from teaching him to walk, to mending skinned knees, to comforting him when he came home from school after a hard day, to offering a shoulder to cry on after a difficult break-up. She used to dream of seeing her boy graduate from college, get a job, marry a pretty girl and start a family of his own. She used to dream of holding her newborn grandchildren in her arms and knowing she would leave a legacy behind.

She used to dream of feeling like she belonged somewhere.

She still dreamed, of course, but the big difference between her first freezing night alone in the ruins of Sanctuary and today was that, at some point she couldn't quite remember, those dreams had stopped looking back at her past with Nate and Shaun, and had begun looking forward to her future with Piper and Nat. Now she dreamed of settling down and growing old with the woman she had fallen so deeply in love with that she couldn't imagine a life without her. Now she dreamed of seeing Nat grow up and start complaining about how boys wouldn't leave her alone. Now she dreamed of how she was happy again. Now she dreamed that she had found the place where she belonged, the place she never wanted to leave.

At this particular moment, however, she dreamed because she seemingly had nowhere else to go. Her world was inky darkness punctuated by bright, gaudy flashes of memory…

… which she suddenly found herself torn out of as her eyelids flickered open. She blinked twice in quick succession, the bright, sterile light of her surroundings almost searing her tired eyes shut again. When they had adjusted a little, she turned her head to try to discover where she was, and saw Knight-Captain Cade standing to her left, withdrawing a needle from her arm.

"Where am I?" she said, her lips so slack and unresponsive that the words almost turned into one long indistinguishable sound.

Cade smiled. "You're in the medical bay of the _Prydwen._ I felt you were well enough to be woken, so I gave you a mild stimulant to bring you round."

"Have to… see Piper," Rachel mumbled, her mouth still not cooperating fully. She sat up, intent on leaving her bed and striding away, but instead her head became filled with a piercing ringing, making her clutch at her temples to try to tear it out. Cade simply put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down gently so that she was lying flat again, the pain in her skull fading to a dull ache behind her eyes. She moaned softly for a moment before she bit her lip and forced herself to ignore it.

"You're going nowhere until I say you can," Cade said sternly. "There are many things you need to recover from – you're lucky you didn't suffer massive head trauma from being hit by a fully-grown deathclaw, for a start. Your brain needs time to recuperate." He paused and gestured to her chest, where she could see three long lines of fresh train-track marks. "And those stitches will need time to help stop you from spilling your guts all over my floor. Do you know how long it takes to clean up that much mess? A long time, believe me. I've had to do it more times than I'd ever have liked. Now," and he gestured towards the doorway, "I believe there's someone here who would like to speak with you."

Rachel shifted her unfocused gaze in the direction Cade was indicating, and then she saw Piper leaning against the doorway, raising a single slender hand and smiling in a muted greeting. "Hey, Blue," she said in a slightly hoarse voice. "What's shakin'?" Then she looked at Cade as if she was asking for his permission to approach her, to which he responded with a brief nod before he turned away and retreated to a respectful distance, busying himself with some blood samples and paperwork. Once he had, Piper walked over to the chair by the side of her bed and sat down after kissing her gently on the forehead. "I missed you, you know," she said in an uncharacteristically soft tone. "For a while there I didn't think you were going to get out of that operating theatre alive."

"I thought you knew me better than that by now," Rachel replied, a hint of a smile ghosting across her face. "I wouldn't leave without bugging you at least once."

"Is that a guarantee I hear?" Piper pondered, with a smile of her own. "I'll keep that in mind." She paused for a moment, squeezing Rachel's hand gently. "How are you feeling?"

"In a word? Sore," Rachel said. "I haven't had this many stitches in me since before the war."

"What happened?" Piper asked, intrigued.

"I was in a car accident before I had Shaun," Rachel explained. "Nate and I were out driving one day and some jerk-off who wasn't looking where he was going hit us at about sixty miles an hour. I broke my hip in three places, fractured my collarbone, and there were so many scrapes on my arms and face that I looked like I'd lost a fight with a lawnmower – my doctor told me I was lucky to be alive. I had to have physiotherapy for months while my leg healed."

"You're lucky to be alive now," Piper said, and squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Don't make a habit of this, you hear me? Promise me you won't be that dumb again."

"I wish I could," Rachel began, "but you know me, I don't make promises I can't keep."

Piper drew back, raising an eyebrow. "Is that so? Is that why you couldn't give me this?" She slid her hand into the outer pocket of her coat and pulled out a small box. Rachel recognised it instantly and draped her hands over her face with a groan.

"Oh God… this is not the way I wanted this to happen," she said, embarrassment lingering thickly in her words.

"Maybe you should have tried a moonlight boat ride instead?" Piper suggested with a brief smile, "or would that have been too much of a cliche?"

"Cade gave you my notes too?"

"He was trying to make me feel better, I guess," Piper said, shrugging. "I don't think he really knew what was on that piece of paper. Your secret's safe with me." She tapped the side of her nose conspiratorially. "I'll never tell."

"Good," Rachel replied, pursing her lips. "I do have a certain image to maintain, after all."

"You do, don't you?" Piper said, resting her chin on the palm of one hand. "Could you explain something to me, though? Why were you making such a big deal out of this? I mean, it's just a question. People ask questions every day – I even do it for a living! Why was this one so different?"

"Because it was, all right?" Rachel snapped, irritated, before she took a second to compose herself and then resumed speaking. "Sorry. It was a big deal because I've never done this before and I wanted it to be perfect. I mean, at first I thought it was difficult being the one getting proposed to, and then I started thinking about what Nate must have been feeling before he asked me to marry him, and it suddenly seemed like a much, much bigger deal than I thought it was. I was thinking about where and how I could do it, how you'd probably react in every single possible scenario. I just –"

Rachel's voice was stilled as Piper put her forefinger in the centre of her lips. "Sweetie, enough," she said in an admonishing tone. "Haven't you worked it out yet? You should never try to out-bullshit a bullshit artist, and I'm the Commonwealth's biggest bullshitter." She drew her fingers back and closed them around Rachel's hand again. "So you want to tell me the truth, or am I going to have to break out the old detective hat so I can find out eventually anyway?"

"Fine," Rachel said. "The real reason why I spent so much time putting off asking you was because I was afraid."

"Afraid?" Piper repeated, incredulous. "Of what? Of little old me? I'm not that intimidating, am I?"

"No, Piper, I'm not afraid of _you_. I'm afraid of what you _represent_."

"Which is?"

"Love." Rachel shrugged. "If I asked you to marry me, that would mean officially admitting I love you, and that scares me, because everything I've ever loved, I've lost. I lost my husband, my home, my son, my whole life… I don't want to lose you too."

"You'll never lose me, Blue," Piper told her. "I promise. I made my decision while you were sleeping, and I'm sticking to it."

"Is that –"

"It is," Piper interrupted, "but I want you to do this properly before I say it out loud." She handed Rachel the ring, a little twinge of amusement at the corner of her lips. "You wanted to do it when it felt right, didn't you? It feels right to me, so I say go for it."

"Okay," Rachel said, suddenly feeling a yawning maw opening in her guts, "but don't blame me if this comes out all weird and awkward because I wasn't prepared."

"After all that improv preaching you did on the island? I don't think you'll have a problem," Piper told her. "How did you manage that, by the way?"

"My dad was a minister," Rachel explained, shrugging matter-of-factly. "Guess I inherited more from him than I thought. Can I carry on now?"

"Be my guest," Piper said, gesturing with her hand as if she was directing Rachel towards a stage. "The floor is yours."

"You're too kind," Rachel replied, before she let out a long exhalation of breath. "Piper Wright… it's only been two years since I met you, but in those two years you showed me how there's still good in this world. Even when you were yelling at the gates outside Diamond City I could see something special in you –"

"Wait, are you going to tell me it was love at first sight?" Piper interrupted again. "Blue, that is _such_ a bad opening line."

"Don't flatter yourself, honey," Rachel said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you were cute, sure, but it wasn't love at first sight. The first time I knew I loved you was… I think it was after we'd taken down a deathclaw and I'd made us some steaks out of the meat. You were eating and talking about what a great story you'd get out of it, and I remember thinking that was what I wanted to wake up to every morning - so I found the ring and I tried to find the perfect time to give it to you." She smiled ruefully. "Guess that didn't work out quite how I'd planned, huh?"

"Not really," Piper agreed, "but you've got the chance now."

"Not if you keep sidetracking me," Rachel said, taking her turn to put her finger to Piper's lips. "Might as well do this the direct way, then, I guess. Piper Wright… will you marry me?"

Tears began beading at the corners of Piper's eyes despite herself. "Of course I will, Blue. Why wouldn't I?"

Rachel felt a massive weight lifting off her shoulders, the tightness in her chest vanishing in an instant, and she shifted herself into a sitting position as quickly as she could. She ignored the sudden twinges in her muscles and the protestations of the stitches embedded in her chest as she took Piper's cheeks in her hands and kissed her deeply, relief and joy bleeding into her lips' movement against Piper's own. Then she took the ring from its box and gently slipped it onto Piper's finger, feeling a twinge of regret that it wasn't the right size. "Hopefully that wasn't too shitty a proposal for you?" she said as their mouthes parted.

"If I had to judge it," Piper began, running her fingers through Rachel's messy hair, "I'd say… maybe six out of ten? Room for improvement, for sure."

"If that's your attitude, I take it back," Rachel laughed. "Maybe I'll ask Cait instead? I always did have a thing for redheads."

Piper batted at Rachel's arm with the back of her fingers. "Don't you start that with me, you asshole," she said, a crooked smile nevertheless flitting across her face for a moment. "Guess I'd better visit Fallon's and see if I can find a wedding dress, hadn't I?"


	13. Disclosure

It had taken around a week for Knight-Captain Cade to finally allow Elder Maxson access to the medical bay. He had waved off Maxson's vehement objections by telling him that she had needed those days to rest and recuperate on her own – which _was_ partially true, she supposed, although Cade had conveniently left out the part where he had woken her up and allowed Piper to see her, only a day or so after bringing her out of the induced coma he'd put her in following her surgery. Now the Elder was here with her, though, and he was clearly eager to begin dissecting any information she could give him.

"It's worse than we thought, Elder," she began. "The Children of Atom don't want to just conquer the island; High Confessor Tektus wants to spread the word of Atom across the whole of the Commonwealth, maybe even the entire country. He won't give up unless we stop him: right now he's creating an army by using radiation to convert his own followers into feral ghouls. He had his people kidnap settlers and the citizens of Far Harbor and take them to his base, so they could be sacrifices for his cause. He was close to turning at least a couple of his followers when Piper and I arrived at the _Nucleus –_ he's probably succeeded with more by now."

"He's deliberately turning humans into ghouls?" Maxson looked utterly horrified by the mere concept. "How?"

"Damaged fusion batteries get implanted directly into the chest cavity of a volunteer and then pumped full of the blood from a glowing one," Rachel explained. "I don't know _why_ it works, but I know it works. I've seen it myself."

"People would _volunteer_ to become one of those things?" Maxson's disgust and horror hung thickly off his words.

"This branch of the Children of Atom believes ghouls are… sacred, I guess. They think becoming one of them would be a blessing." She paused, deciding to cut to the chase. "Far Harbor needs our help, sir. I left a group of Children of Atom defectors with them to help defend the town, but I don't know how long they can hold out against Tektus and his loyalists. Let me take a detachment of knights back to the island so I can at least shore up their defences. They deserve our help – if Tektus's followers take that dock, there's nothing left to stop them from arriving in the Commonwealth, and if they arrive in the Commonwealth, a lot of innocent people are going to die. We have to stop them, sir. We have to."

Maxson scowled. "Without any reinforcements due from the Citadel, we're a little overstretched," he said in a pained tone, "but I can spare a small detachment of knights for this operation. You have full discretion to recruit whomever you choose."

"Thank you, sir," Rachel replied, "but there's something else you should know: High Confessor Tektus is… well, he's a synth, sir. I left him in charge of the church before I came back to the mainland six months ago because it was helping to keep the peace on the island. I thought if he could be contained in the _Nucleus,_ he could be ignored, but he's become… defective somehow. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he needs to be dealt with. If I can get close to him, I'll put him down myself."

"See that you do, Sentinel," Maxson said, jabbing a finger at her sharply. "I understand you thought you were doing the right thing, but leaving a synth alive in that kind of position is utterly unacceptable. I expect you to correct that mistake without hesitation. I've cut you a lot of slack in the past regarding synths, but this time I will not tolerate any disobedience whatsoever. There's too much at stake for you to let sentiment cloud your judgement. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, Elder," Rachel said. "That synth is as good as dead."

"Excellent," Maxson said, before he gestured to the door. "I'll be on the bridge, should you need to discuss this further – as soon as you've been cleared for duty, that is." He brought his clenched fist to his chest in a smart salute. "Ad victoriam, sister."

"Ad victoriam, sir," Rachel repeated, returning the salute with a bandaged hand. When Maxson had departed the room, Cade returned to her bedside, holding out a stimpak. Confused, Rachel took it and held it up.

"Wait," she began, "I thought you didn't believe in using these?"

Cade shrugged. "Normally I don't, but I can see the Elder won't want to wait for long. This is the first and only time I'm going to advise that you take one of these outside of a combat zone," he said flatly. "If you start feeling any ill effects, I want you back here as soon as possible. Is that clear?"

"Understood, sir," Rachel said, before she reversed her grip on the stimpak and jammed its short, stubby needle into her arm. Depressing the plunger with her thumb, she felt its effects quickly flooding throughout her body, the persistent aching of the still-sore scars left by the stitches in her torso lessening and then vanishing completely in the blink of an eye. No matter how many times she experienced that feeling it never ceased to be almost exhilarating, in its own way. When the stimpak's initial rush had subsided, she flexed the fingers of her right hand and rotated it at the wrist a few times just to make sure it was in proper working order. Swinging her legs off the bed, she eased herself down onto the floor, feeling her feet protest for a moment as they took her weight and fearing that her knees might fold out from under her. It only took a couple of seconds for that fear to be proven wrong, but she still found herself clinging to the edge of the bed as a precaution.

When she was satisfied she could stand properly, she turned to Cade again and waved a hand up and down her smock-clad body. "Do you have anything I can change into, please? I don't really want to go back to my quarters wearing nothing but this thing."

Without looking up from the Petri dish on his work-surface, Cade pointed to the chair in the corner of the room, which had her freshly-cleaned uniform and cap folded over the top of it. "Draw the curtain and you can change behind it," he said almost absently. "And don't take this the wrong way, Sentinel, but I really hope we don't see each other again for quite a while after this."

Rachel laughed. "Don't worry, Doc, I think we're in full agreement there…"

* * *

Once she'd suited up and made her way back to her private quarters, Rachel found Piper waiting for her behind the door. She didn't have time to say anything before the smaller woman threw her arms around her and held on as if she was afraid to let go. "Oh, thank God," she whispered. "I thought you'd never get out of there."

"I almost didn't," Rachel replied. "Getting three square meals a day while doing absolutely nothing was a pretty sweet deal, after all – would _you_ want to give that up?"

"I suppose not," Piper said, laying her head against Rachel's shoulder for a moment before returning her gaze to her fiancee's face, dread crossing her face like a pitch-black cloud. "I guess this means you have to go back out there now, then, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Rachel said regretfully. "I told Elder Maxson about what happened on the island, and I asked him to let me lead a task-force back there so we can help Far Harbor defend itself against Tektus. You know it's the right thing to do, don't you?"

"I know, but… can't it be somebody else?" Piper asked, almost beseechingly. "I just got you back, Blue. Why does it have to be you?"

"You know why," Rachel told her. "I have a duty to protect the Commonwealth, and I have a duty to protect those Children of Atom too. I can't ignore that – and besides, I helped put that broken synth in charge of the _Nucleus_ in the first place _._ I need to fix that mistake."

"But why _you?_ Can't you send someone in your place? Jesus Christ, Blue, you barely came back alive the first time! Why do you have to go right back out there?!"

"Because I'm a Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel, and the Emissary of the Mother of the Fog," Rachel said. "Nobody else can say they're both of those things. I have to go. I have to."

Piper nodded, a resigned look on her face, before she reached up and trailed her fingers down Rachel's cheek. "I know. I know you do," she said softly, drawing herself closer so that she could kiss Rachel briefly, leaving the faint tang of Nuka-Cola behind on her tongue, "and I know arguing with you won't change your mind, so I'll save the yelling at you for when we get back home."

"We?"

"You didn't think I was going to let you leave without me, did you?" Piper said, with a shrug. "I'm not letting anything happen to my future wife – you're not getting off the hook that easily, you asshole."

"Okay, I deserved that," Rachel replied, a little ruefully, before she gestured to the dormant suit of power armour standing hunchbacked in the corner of the room. "I'm going to go pick my squad for this mission. You want to tag along and help me make a shortlist?"

"Sure," Piper replied, pursing her lips and rolling her eyes. "Why not?"

* * *

It had taken a while to assemble her strike team, but Rachel was satisfied she had made the right choices: along with Piper, she had recruited Knight-Captain Larsen, Knights Lucia and Rhys (who she had had specifically airlifted from the Cambridge police station in order to help him get used to being on field assignments again after so long away from the front lines), Paladin Brandis, and a fire team of half a dozen other distinguished knights, all armed with heavy weapons. She hoped they would not be necessary, but experience had taught her that it was better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them. In addition, she brought along a small group of Children of Atom, including Zealots Ware and Theil, as well as Sister Emily, who had flat-out refused to let the Emissary out of her sight now that she was able to walk again. Rachel had once again found herself admiring the younger woman's ironclad dedication to her faith, even if she didn't share it, and hoped that that dedication would help her out in this little crusade.

After a small fleet of vertibirds had relayed Rachel's team to the island, they had alighted in Far Harbor where the combination of renegade Children and Far Harbor citizens had reorganised as best they could, rigging up fresh barricades and fortifications from whatever they had been able to scrounge from the piles of wreckage scattered across the dock. When Captain Avery saw Rachel's little war-band, though, she had almost collapsed from the shock. "Never thought I'd see you again, mainlander," she said after she had taken a moment to process the sight of multiple power-armoured soldiers flanked by Rachel's devoted followers, who were carrying crates of fresh ammunition and laser rifles. "Why'd you come back?"

"I couldn't leave you to face Tektus alone," Rachel replied, shrugging for a moment before she sheepishly realised her armour wouldn't really translate that movement well. "I'm just sorry I couldn't come sooner. How have you been holding up?"

"Better than expected," Avery said. "There's been no serious attack yet – just a few skirmish parties – but there's no telling when the rad-eaters'll be back. I think they're just trying to pick us off one by one instead of having the balls to take us on directly. Fucking cowards, all of them." A moment after she had spoken, though, she noticed Sister Emily standing beside Rachel and quickly added "No offence, kid."

Sister Emily smiled, masking any indignation she might be feeling. "None taken, Captain," she said. "Those people don't follow Atom's true path. We do. His blessings are with us, I know it."

Avery looked unconvinced, but didn't argue the point, instead ushering Rachel's reinforcements inside the towns gates and helping them unbox the new weapons so that they could be distributed amongst the surviving townsfolk and their new allies.

For a moment, Rachel thought this crazy strategy might work, but it was an uncertain thought, and one which she was not able to hold onto. She hoped she would find it again soon enough.

* * *

A few hours was all it had taken for Rachel's task-force to help reinforce the harbour's defences and set up a defence perimeter studded with heavy firepower, effectively turning the dock into the closest thing to a fortress that it could be. Now Piper and Rachel were resting in the private quarters inside the ruins of The Last Plank, which all of the resident Children had insisted they take, despite her protests (and those of her soldiers), and were getting ready to bed down for the night, even as they heard the rumble of storm clouds on the horizon.

"So do you think this counts as our honeymoon?" Piper asked as they lay facing each other. "If it does, I gotta say I'm disappointed. I wanted a trip to Nuka-World!"

Rachel laughed. "Oh, we'll take that trip, babe, don't worry about that. You can call this a… work assignment, I guess. Hopefully we can get this out of the way and go on that vacation as soon as possible. Believe me, you haven't lived until you've made out the whole way through the World of Refreshment ride – hearing people yelling at you to knock it off and get a room never gets old." She brushed her fingers against Piper's cheek. "I can't wait to take you there and call you my wife."

"Neither can I, Blue," Piper replied. "Still gonna yell at you before that, though…"


	14. Road Trip

Cocooned inside her power armour and leaving Far Harbor flanked on either side by both her Brotherhood of Steel soldiers and her Children of Atom disciples, Rachel had initially found it all too easy to occasionally think this course of action she was taking would somehow be much more straightforward than she had first thought.

She didn't think that now.

Just a short distance away from the outer edges of Far Harbor itself they had lost their first soldier: Brother Thomas, a young Child of Atom who had been unfortunate enough to step on a buried plasma mine. His right leg had been reduced to a scarlet cloud of liquidised meat and bone in an instant as he was thrown backwards several feet, before colliding so heavily with the side of a tree stump that several of his ribs audibly turned to splinters. Knight Vasquez, the Brotherhood field medic Rachel had assigned to her strike team, had immediately rushed to the boy's side, clearly hoping to at least stabilise his condition until he could be properly treated back in Far Harbor, but the dying boy batted him away with weak, desperate fingers. He had reached toward Rachel with an outstretched hand and whispered "Emissary… bless… me", before he had slumped backwards in a lifeless heap. A wet, pitiful gurgle had been the final sound that came from his throat.

Vasquez hadn't even had time to get his medical kit out. Rachel had heard him muttering vivid curse words through her helmet's comm system as he drove his suit's armoured hand into the ground in frustration.

Rushing to the boy's side and positioning herself forcefully in between the devastated Vasquez and the boy's body, Sister Emily had begun sketching uneven atomic symbols on his slack features with the piece of charcoal she had had stowed in a pocket of her robes, before she turned and motioned for Rachel to come and join her by his side. She looked up at her Emissary with pleading eyes.

"Bless him, Emissary," she begged. "He hasn't received Atom's sacrament yet. Bless him. _Please._ "

Triggering her armour's release mechanism, Rachel exited her metal shell and knelt by the boy's corpse, placing her gloved hand on his pallid forehead. "Atom be with you, brother," she said softly, tears blurring her vision for a moment. "Walk in His light until we see each other again." She bent down further so that she was able to close his unseeing eyes and plant a brief, gentle kiss between them, and then pushed herself to a standing position again. Wiping her wet cheeks with the back of one hand, she pointed at the two knights who were closest to her. "You two, sweep the area for mines as best you can. Let's try to avoid any more surprises, shall we?" When the knights had moved off to carry out their orders, Rachel looked down at the still-kneeling form of Sister Emily, who was quietly reciting verses of her scriptures over her dead fellow believer, and gently placed her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Be strong, sister," she said softly. "He's with Atom now."

"I know," Sister Emily whispered, her head down and her words punctuated by sobs. "It's just… I didn't think Tektus would tell his followers to do something like this."

Rachel took a deep breath and helped Sister Emily to her feet before she tentatively enfolded the younger woman in her arms and pressed the shorter woman's shaven head to her shoulder. She felt a swell of relief when her hug was returned, however weakly. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said in a soft tone, "but it's pretty clear Tektus just wants to kill his enemies now – and when you left that submarine base, you became the enemy. All we can do now is stick to the plan and hope we get to our objective before we lose anyone else." She helped the younger woman to her feet and then gestured towards Brother Thomas's mutilated corpse. "Form a burial detail for him. I'll say a few words before we move on, I promise."

She watched Sister Emily walk off towards a group of Atom's chosen in order to recruit them for her assigned task, her head held as high as she could manage, and couldn't help but feel an involuntary swell of pride that the young, naive girl she had first met at the dock of Far Harbor was continuing to prove herself a capable leader who people would actually listen to without question. She never would have expected that after seeing her being so mercilessly humbled by the old preacher in the Last Plank.

"Hey, Blue," came Piper's voice from behind her. "How you holding up?"

Turning on her heel to face her fiancee, Rachel shrugged. "I've been better. I should have expected some kind of counter-attack."

"Come on, Blue, don't go down that road," Piper told her firmly. "You couldn't have known Tektus would go this low."

Rachel snorted in disgust. "I should have. Nate would have thought to do some more recon before leaving Far Harbor, especially when the enemy has to know we're coming." She closed her eyes for a moment as she rubbed the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb. "I wish he was here now, you know? I could definitely use the insight."

"Blue," Piper said, her tone becoming unusually stern. "Blue, look at me." She waited a moment before Rachel met her gaze, and then continued "You remember back at the _Nucleus,_ when you told me you needed me to be strong for you? Well, this is me asking _you_ to be strong for _me_. Don't you dare doubt yourself, you hear me? These people need you to lead them. _I_ need you to lead them. Don't let me down." She stepped back a couple of paces, snapped crisply to attention and thumped her closed fist against her chest. "Ad victoriam, Sentinel."

That made Rachel smile, just a little. She returned the salute, her mood lifted at least a couple of notches – small notches, to be sure, but notches nonetheless. "Ad victoriam, civilian," she said. "Have I told you I love you today?"

Piper closed the gap between the two of them again and delicately pressed her lips to Rachel's for a moment. "Not nearly enough, soldier." She shifted herself inside Rachel's embrace a little more, her hand tracing Rachel's jaw, making Rachel lean into the touch ever so slightly. "Promise me you'll take what I said seriously, okay?"

"I promise," Rachel murmured in Piper's ear before she disengaged herself from her fiancee's arms and re-entered her armour, the suit's interlocking plates hissing contentedly as their environmental seals clicked back into place. Through her helmet's speakers she said "I'm going to go park this somewhere safe before I help make sure that grave is dug quickly." She owed Brother Thomas that much, at least.

"Knight Rhys, take point. Paladin Brandis, bring up the rear. Everyone else, keep your guns up and stay alert."

Those had been Rachel's first orders when her makeshift little army had finally moved away from the Far Harbor stockade. She had led her disciples and soldiers carefully past Beaver Creek Lanes, threading them southwards towards the Old Pond House at the southernmost tip of the island's main inland body of water. She had hoped that that would be far enough away from Acadia that her knights wouldn't raise any concerns about the synths still living there, but those hopes were dashed when Knight Rhys suddenly stopped in his tracks, balled his left hand up in a fist and held it up to indicate everyone should stop, before he began slapping his armoured palm against the side of his helmet. It was almost as if something had crawled in through one of its interface ports and taken up residence in his ear.

"Is there a problem, knight?" she'd asked as she moved up beside him.

"No, ma'am," he replied, before he banged his gauntlet against his helmet again, a frustrated grunt clawing its way out of his helmet's vocaliser. "Yes. Maybe."

"Be specific, knight," Rachel told him. "I don't need speculation, I need facts. What is it you can hear?"

Rhys tapped his temple. "I don't know exactly what it is, ma'am, but I think I can make out voices over my helmet's radio. I can't tell what they're saying, not word for word, but those are definitely voices."

 _Damn it, DiMA, not now,_ Rachel thought, frustrated, as random, indistinct scraps of words started to filter sporadically through her own helmet's audio systems. The crazy old robot must have been broadcasting radio signals again. Perhaps he was trying to recruit more synth refugees to Acadia, or perhaps he was trying specifically to get into contact with Kasumi Nakano again, but the radio waves he was creating were more of a danger now than they had ever been when Kasumi had been duped into visiting his refuge. "It's most likely nothing, knight," she lied. "Old automated distress signals bounce around this fog like pinballs all the time. Don't concern yourself with them. We have more important things to worry about right now than ghosts in the mist."

"But ma'am –"

"Are you questioning my orders, knight?" Rachel snarled, the corner of her mouth creasing upwards into an annoyed grimace under her helmet's faceplate as she rounded on Rhys and jabbed her finger right into the centre of his torso armour. "I said not to concern yourself with them. That wasn't a suggestion. Drop this, _now_. Is that understood?"

"I –" Rhys began, before he caught himself mid-sentence and said "Yes, ma'am."

"Good," Rachel said, before she grasped his suit's shoulder pauldron. "Look, soldier, if you feel those signals really need investigation, submit a report to me the next time we're on the _Prydwen_. I'll take it to Elder Maxson or Proctor Quinlan and we can decide how to proceed from there." She wasn't naive enough to expect he would actually let the matter go entirely – Rhys _was_ Rhys, after all – but perhaps she could lay a few tripwires to hinder him for a while. She took a small degree of solace in the fact that it was unlikely that either Quinlan or Maxson would deem random voices in a remote island's fog to be worthy of further investigation, but also made a mental note to contact DiMA and warn him to stop sending out radio signals for a while just in case. As much as she despised that ragged bucket of bolts for his repeated duplicity and casual manipulation, the synths in his dubious care certainly didn't deserve to be culled thanks to an error in judgement.

 _Just another thing to worry about,_ she thought. _Wonderful._

The _Nucleus_ was close, just over the next hill. Rachel could see the foul green vapours that the base continuously belched out rising in plumes across the sky, and glowing radioactive markers had been hammered into the ground by the Children of Atom in order to indicate their ownership of the base. For a moment, even through her Sentinel-pattern battle-plate, Rachel thought she could feel pulses of atomic energy coming off the layers of sickly green paint on the intricately-carved stones, but she instead put it down to the apprehension she felt at leading such a tenuously-cohesive force into an unknown situation. Had she been leading one or the other by themselves she would have felt much more secure, but the two groups were driven by such disparate ideologies that she didn't know if she could keep them together under fire. She felt a shiver sparking down her spine at the notion of her soldiers breaking ranks, and was tempted to remove her helmet and wipe her face clean but she knew it was too much of a risk at this point – for all she knew, Tektus could have positioned snipers around the base ready to pick off any attackers, and she didn't want to tempt fate any more than she had already. Her suit's internal ventilation systems would have to suffice for now.

She sighed, and then motioned for Paladin Brandis and Zealots Ware and Theil to join her at the top of the hill.

"So how do you want to play this, Sentinel?" Brandis asked in his usual leathery, battle-hardened tone. "A full-frontal assault against a fortified position like that would be suicide."

"Yes, it would," Rachel began, "which is why we're not going to do it. Ware and Theil, you know the terrain around here better than me, so I need you and half of your men to circle around and find an insertion point behind that firing line. Lay down some suppressing fire on any sentries if you can, but don't put yourselves or your men at risk more than you have to. Brandis, while the Children are distracted, I want you and three other heavy-weapons knights to advance from the side. With the high ground you might be able to pick off a few more of the guards out front. They might have set those DIY ghouls loose by now, so keep your eyes open and your guns up, and make sure to ask Vasquez for some stimpaks before you move out, just in case. The rest of your knights and my disciples are with Piper, Sister Emily and me. We'll cause a distraction from the left – a few grenades should do it – and then thin them out from maximum safe distance. Hopefully we can scatter them long enough to breach the entrance. Are we good to go?"

"Yes, Sentinel," Brandis said. "We'll get it done."

"Agreed," Ware echoed. "We won't let you down, Emissary."

"Good," Rachel said, taking a deep breath. "Ad victoriam, in Atom's name. Move out."

 _Here goes nothing…_


	15. The One-Eyed Man Is King

The resistance outside the submarine base had looked minimal – a few of Tektus's loyalists with automatic weapons had been located at guard posts scattered around the perimeter of the base itself, their wizened, noseless features indicating that they had "ascended" to their ghoul forms, but they had not exactly seemed overly concerned with denying Rachel's men entry through the front door. Instead, they had fallen back towards it in a suspiciously orderly fashion, before opening it and letting a horde of slavering feral ghouls pour out, their slack mouthes slathered in bloody drool and their splintered claws extended and ready to attack.

The ranks of the newly-minted horrors had been significantly thinned by a sustained barrage of fire from the knights wielding Gatling lasers and miniguns, but enough of them had remained that they had been able to close in on their former brothers and sisters, slipping and sliding through the piles of shredded body parts on the ground in front of the base in their frenzied haste to attack. Every one of them had a gaping, pus-caked hole in their sternum, the frayed, necrotic edges of the open wounds glowing a sickly green as a result of the vast amounts of radiation they had absorbed. The majority of them had clearly lost their minds along with their humanity, but more than enough of the church had maintained a sufficient sense of self that they had retained their armour and were able to guide their mutated fellow disciples like rotting shepherds, herding them directly towards Rachel's disjointed army with gnarled, wizened hands.

Standing in the thick of the horde, back to back with Piper, Rachel hit a ghoul square in the face with the butt of her laser rifle as it vainly tried to bite a hole in her armour, its teeth shattering the instant they hit the metal plating. The ghoul staggered backwards as its jaw peeled messily away from its skull, its tongue lolling directly downwards and a cascade of blackened tooth fragments raining onto the ground before it renewed its attack. As it closed in on her, Rachel raised her free hand and caught what was left of its face in her gauntlet. Then she closed her fist, sinking her metal fingers into the ghoul's eye sockets and completely tearing off the front of its decaying skull, blood and brains spurting over her forearm as the feral instantly collapsed in front of her.

"Inside the base, now!" she yelled, kicking aside the former cultist's broken body and storming towards the entrance, her makeshift army surging forward after her with a roar of support. "For the Brotherhood! For Atom!"

* * *

Beyond its rusty entrance, the base was little more than a charnel house, smears of coppery blood draped across the walls and half-eaten corpses strewn haphazardly over the floor. None of the bodies bore any signs of having been turned, so Rachel assumed they were simply those members of Tektus's congregation who had not succumbed to the ravages of the glow and had paid the price for it. She put out of her mind the unpleasant image of their former comrades overwhelming them as they begged for mercy, instead determinedly marching forwards, laser rifle crooked into her shoulder and ready to fire. Rhys had volunteered to lead the way again but she had flatly refused. This was her mission, she explained, and she needed to see it through.

Flanked by two knights armed with Gatling lasers she entered into the main body of the base, the air becoming thick with the familiar scent of incense and the choking green vapour that wafted up from the sludge festering at the bottom of the rust-encrusted dry dock. Touching her hand to the side of her helmet she said "Ware, do you copy? Where are you, over?"

There was a brief crackle on the other end before Ware's voice rang into her ear. "I copy, Emissary. We're approaching the doorway of the base's storm drain. We should be with you in about five minutes, over."

"Not good enough, Ware," Rachel said, frustrated. "Get it done sooner, over."

"As the Emissary wills it," Ware replied. "Ware out."

Before Rachel could think of a solution to the delay, a cacophony of wet, gurgling moans began to echo upwards from the bottom of the dock. Up ahead, a fresh mass of ferals came swarming up the metal staircase, hissing and almost scrambling over each other to get the chance to be the first to lay into their former brothers and sisters. As they approached, Rachel called out "Hold your fire! Let them get closer!"

As the ghouls approached, the layout of the base bunched them together, funnelling them towards the narrow wooden hut that had been nonsensically placed on the ground floor, reducing them almost to a single file. Rachel inclined her head towards Knight Hudson, one of the Gatling laser-wielding knights standing either side of her. "Knight… open fire."

"Yes, ma'am," Knight Hudson said, and aimed her mighty weapon directly at the bottlenecked ghouls, cutting the vanguard of the pack to pieces with ease. Withered limbs were severed, spasming on the ground as their former owners were mercilessly shredded by the hail of energy bolts the laser spat at them. The horde's charge was instantly cut short, the few still-living ghouls' wretched, phlegm-choked cries the only lasting reminder it had ever begun at all. Her relief lasted only an instant before a bullet slammed directly into her right shoulder pauldron, gouging a lengthy dent in the reinforced battle-plate. Her armour's internal sensors screeched in indignant rage as they registered the damage, an angry red warning signal flashing up in the top right corner of her vision.

 _"Take cover!"_ she yelled as she tried to scan the upper levels of the base for any muzzle flashes or signs of movement. Another crack echoed through the air as her troops began to disperse, and beside her, Knight Hudson collapsed backwards silently as a lucky bullet pierced one of her eyepieces and began rattling around inside her helmet, her Gatling laser falling to the ground with a heavy clang. Rachel didn't even bother to check on her after she had gone down, as the display on her visor that indicated her knights' life-signs had definitively clicked down by one. Instead, she merely dropped her rifle and heaved Hudson's orphaned weapon up, clamping her finger down on its trigger and listening to its motor cycling for a second or two before it unleashed a full volley of searing energy fire towards the upper levels of the scaffolding surrounding the submarine, slicing through flimsy wooden barriers and reducing several cultists to smoking piles of ash as they tried vainly to shelter behind them. The two knights alongside her began similar volleys of fire, reducing several more support structures to charred splinters. The rickety wooden web reaching towards the ceiling groaned as its stability wavered, and Rachel could hear panicky cries and scuttling footsteps echoing downwards as the Children suddenly realised what was happening. So did Rachel. "Fall back!" she yelled, gesturing wildly towards the entranceway. _"Fall back!"_ In an instant, her followers and knights alike started moving towards the safety of the decontamination tunnel to escape what was coming.

Throaty voices started yelling for some discipline before they were drowned out by the sound of the final struts finally giving way, causing the scaffolding to peel away from its shattered foundations, at first slowly drooping forwards and downwards like a ruptured intestine and then rapidly accelerating to smash down on the ground and on the submarine with pulverising force. A great swell of vapour and splinters rose from the wreckage, and against all odds, a number of feral ghouls did too, several of them with broken bones poking through wasted flesh. Some of them immediately fell through the wreckage and into the muck of the dock as the precariously-stacked wood and metal gave way under their weight, but enough of them were sufficiently mobile that they were able to start stumbling towards Rachel and her knights once more, garbled groans ripping themselves free from lacerated throats.

At that moment the thunder of breaching charges went off from lower level of the dry dock, and Rachel heard Ware's voice crackle across her comm-link. "We're through, Emissary," he said, before he let out an audible gasp, presumably from seeing the after-effects of the base's decimation. "By Atom… what happened?"

"You were late," Rachel replied simply. "I need you to help clean this place up. There may be more ghouls hidden away behind the door to the control centre." A wry thought occurred to her. "I guess this is the time I really do have to ask you to fight my battles for me."

Ware was silent for a second before he replied "I guess it is. As the Emissary wills it. Ware out."

With her little army on the verge of being reunited, Rachel refocused her attention on a more pressing matter. "Finish those ghouls off," she said to the other Gatling-laser-wielding knight at her side, before she pointed towards the gangplank leading to the submarine. "I'm going to find the High Confessor. Maybe I can put an end to this."

"Yes, sir. Ad victoriam," the knight said, swinging his weapon up and pulling the trigger.

"Ad victorian, soldier," Rachel said before turning away so she didn't have to see the final remnants of the ghoul horde being finally wiped out, instead heading directly to the hatch at the top of the submarine's hull, intent on finding and ending Tektus's threat for good.

Before she could go any further, though, Piper stepped in her way. "You're not going in there alone, Blue. I'm coming with you."

"So am I, Emissary," Sister Emily insisted as she moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Piper, slotting a fresh power cell into her plasma pistol as she did so.

Rachel shook her head. "No," she said, a stern edge in her voice. "This is something I have to do alone." Piper opened her mouth to protest so Rachel continued before she could get a word out. "I caused this. I need to be the one who ends it."

* * *

Inside the submarine, the air was even more toxic than it had ever been before. The Geiger counter in her Pip-Boy and her armour's integrated sensor array had both begun screaming warnings at her as soon as she dropped through the hatch, her armoured boots slamming into the corroded deck with a metallic crunch that echoed loudly through the confines of the submarine's narrow corridors. Unhooking her laser rifle from her shoulder Rachel raised it and began to move in the direction of Tektus's private shrine. By now she had surmised that he most likely had taken refuge there, either of his own volition or at the insistence of his followers when the base had come under attack. Even if he wasn't in his chambers, she supposed it was as good a place as any to start looking, so she set off in that direction, curling her finger around the trigger of her rifle and trying to still the shakes that had suddenly started running into her hands.

She began walking towards Tektus's shrine with little fanfare, picking her way around the fallen corpses of non-ghoul humans covered in bite marks, until she heard a voice ghosting towards her from the shadows behind the throne. It sounded rough and coarse, like it was being filtered through thick gravel.

"So, 'Emissary'," it said, "you finally came back. It's good to know your devotion to Atom is still strong. Too bad it won't help you now." Then the owner of the voice finally stepped out of the darkness. Grand Zealot Richter stood before her, stripped to the waist and carrying a huge super-sledge, its oversized head consisting of four cracked fusion cores which spewed sickly green vapour with every movement. Around Richter's neck hung a coiled loop of electrical wire, along which were strung four more broken fusion cores, crusted coolant and luminous pus caking their outsides, while a fifth still sat lodged in his chest, secured by crude metal bands that had been forcibly jammed into his skin. Richter himself had changed too – his humanity had been stripped away and a web of neon-green veins pulsed under his translucent skin, a network of them clustered around the gaping hole in his chest. "Surprised?" he asked, cocking his head and gesturing to his new form. "Atom saw fit to help me ascend. It took these five fusion cores and the blood of just as many holy ones to do it, but eventually I received Atom's final blessing." He held up the hand not clutching the hammer, forming a fist and watching as it emitted a haze of poisonous vapour. "The world seems so much more vibrant now," he said, opening his hand and flexing his fingers. "I can see its patterns of energy, flowing across all of creation. Atom above, I never realised it could be so beautiful." His attention seemed to drift for a moment before he brought himself back to reality. "I assume you're here to stop us fulfilling the High Confessor's plan," he stated flatly. "Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do, Richter," Rachel told him. "This isn't Atom's grand scheme and deep down you know it. Help me end this. We can fix this, I promise. The High Confessor -"

"The High Confessor is not your concern," Richter interrupted. "Until he ascends he is not to be disturbed. Even by me." He hefted his weapon with both hands, its four fusion cores spewing a trail of sickly vapour as he did so. "Last chance to avoid Atom's judgement, girl. Turn around and walk away."

Rachel shook her head. "I can't do that." She aimed her rifle directly at Richter's bare chest. "Don't make me kill you."

"So be it," Richter said, and broke into a charge, too fast for Rachel to get more than a single shot off. It hit Richter squarely in his shoulder but it did nothing more than stagger him for a moment or two before he recovered and swung the brutal hammer in a sharp downward arc, smashing into her already-damaged right shoulder pauldron, her armour's internal diagnostics screeching as the distressed plate gave way under the weapon's impact. As the ruined metal fell away from the frame underneath it, impacting on the deck with a muted ringing, a brief message from her suit's internal processor flashed up on her visor.

 **++WARNING! ARMOUR INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. PILOT IN JEOPARDY. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE REPAIRS TO PRIMARY SYSTEMS++**

Had she had more time to dwell on the absurdity of that obvious statement, Rachel might have laughed, but as it was she had no opportunity to do anything but curse loudly and try to parry Richter's next blow by putting her laser rifle between herself and the hammer. Richter's weapon came down heavily on the rifle's exposed energy cell, cracking it and releasing a searing surge of light in the process. Rachel's eyepieces automatically darkened to dampen the glare, but Richter had no such protection. He staggered backwards a step or two, trying to blink away the blinding flash, his own weapon lolling downwards for a moment or two. Taking advantage of the ghoul's disorientation, Rachel threw away the mangled remains of her rifle and aimed a punch squarely at his face with her armour-less hand, her suit's metallic fingers impacting on Richter's emaciated cheek and almost rendering it concave. She considered that adequate payback for what he'd done to her the last time she had been here.

Richter stumbled and fell onto his back, the hammer skittering away from him as he collapsed, spinning end to end until it hit the wall of the corridor several feet away. Wasting no time, Rachel advanced on him as he spat out a mouthful of luminous green blood and then grinned at her with a bank of broken teeth, before he quickly raised both hands and let loose a blast of concentrated green energy right into the faceplate of her helmet, causing her suit's sensors to scream in agony. It was the kind of pulse-wave she had seen other glowing ones use to resurrect or heal ordinary ghouls, highly radioactive and searing to the touch. Another warning appeared on her flickering visor display, insistent and frantic as the green surge continued to obscure her vision.

 **++WARNING! HELMET STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY AT 85% AND FALLING. SENSOR ARRAY DAMAGED. PILOT IN JEOPARDY. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE REPAIRS TO PRIMARY SYSTEMS++**

Cracks began spider-webbing their way across her eyepieces, fracturing her display and obscuring her vision even more. She realised she soon wouldn't have any other options other than to discard the damaged helmet and hope for the best.

She had to survive first, though. Putting her metal left hand between her helmet's rebreather and Richter's assault she took a couple of steps forward, forcing her way through the wave of radiation and trying to ignore the escalating shrieks of protest from both her armour and her Pip-Boy, feeling her uniform's exposed right sleeve start peeling away, its insulated surface starting to slough off under the radiation. She realised it wouldn't be too long before it was reduced to scant threads, so she had to try to regain any advantage she could. With the hand not shielding her visor, she grasped the hilt of her chain-blade which had been magnetised to her hip. She pushed her way through the intensifying pulses of Richter's inbuilt power and his accompanying howls of rage, and when she was close enough she lashed out blindly with her weapon, feeling its hilt start juddering in her hand as its whirring teeth embedded themselves in one of Richter's arms, carving through the withered flesh and brittle bones with ease. Immediately the intense wave of energy stopped as Richter staggered backwards again, clutching at the ragged, luminous stump of his left arm, before he forced his pain down and smiled his jagged smile again. "Is that all you've got, 'Emissary'?" he snarled, before he reached backwards with his intact right hand and extended its fingers, sending another beam of radiation back towards the hammer lying on the ground. Its questing tendrils intertwined with the wisps of radiation curling from the broken fusion cores and tightened together with them like strands of glue. In an instant Richter had tugged on the connection and the hammer had responded by dragging itself towards him and returning to his hand before he swung it with deadly precision, straight into the side of Rachel's helmet. At that moment her display finally gave out, leaving her completely in the dark.

Scrabbling to remove the ruined helmet she dropped her dagger and grabbed at the release mechanism with both hands, unclasping the environmental seals and throwing the ruined headgear away. The light and heat of the submarine's interior was so different without her armour's visual input that it took her eyes a few moments to adjust – moments she did not have as Richter swung the hammer again, this time hitting her square in her breastplate. If her helmet had still been undamaged it would have protested the loudest about that, but instead all she heard was Richter's manic, cackling laughter as he closed in and pressed his attack, aiming another blow at her chest. She parried desperately with her left forearm, hearing the battle-plate screeching in protest as it warped under the impact. She knew it wouldn't be long before that arm, too, was shattered beyond repair. As Richter drew the hammer back for another swing, she reached out and grabbed the haft of the weapon with her right hand, feeling its energy burning ragged holes in her uniform and searing the exposed patches of her arm beneath it. Ignoring the pain, she twisted her wrist and wrenched the weapon out of Richter's fingers, spinning it up and around and grasping it with her other hand so she could wield it effectively.

 _"My turn,"_ she hissed, before she brought the hammer down hard, directly onto Richter's right shoulder. He howled as the bones directly underneath the impact fractured and tore out of his translucent skin, a spray of sickly-green blood spewing outwards as he sprawled to the deck. She marched forwards and grabbed at his ruined shoulder to heave him to his feet. "Get up," she snapped, furious. " _Get up!"_ She swung him around and grabbed him by the throat with one hand, lifting him up and looking him directly in the eye. "Last chance to avoid Atom's judgement, Grand Zealot."

To her surprise, Richter simply smiled. "By Atom's will, you will see the way," he said, before his remaining hand rose up impossibly quickly in the corner of her vision –

– and then her face erupted in fire, the left side of her vision disappearing in a blaze of scarlet pain that almost instantly faded to black. Her world went flat as she flung Richter away as hard as she could, clutching at her face in agony before her armour's medical systems quickly dumped the contents of several stimpaks into her bloodstream. She felt her grisly wound beginning to close as the elixir got to work, and when she was able to focus again she looked around to see Richter slumped against the wall of the passageway, his neck bent at an impossible angle and the light under his skin flickering out. Clutched in his slackening fingers was her chain-blade, slick with gore and meat. She came to the obvious conclusion that he must have picked it up in the moments that it had taken for her to remove her helmet and hidden it from her before it was too late.

Triggering the release mechanism in her armour, she stepped out of it and immediately raised a hand to her face to assess the damage that had been done. She brushed her fingers gingerly over the numbed area, feeling still-sticky blood painting its way down her face, and then the lumpen knot of rapidly-formed scar tissue which had settled in her mangled eye-socket.

Her eye was gone.

Her eye was _gone._

She swayed on her feet in shock, and for a moment she felt like slumping to the ground and giving in, but she refused to allow that thought to take root. She was alive, she could move, and she had a mission to complete. She tore off a few strips of cloth from her shredded sleeve and bound her face with them before she re-entered her scarred armour, picked up Richter's hammer and retrieved her bloodied dagger from the Grand Zealot's still-twitching corpse. She spat on him for good measure, contempt burning in her veins.

Tektus couldn't escape now.

For a moment she raised her hand to the side of her head, hoping to bring up the schematics of the vessel before she remembered that her helmet was little more than scrap. Stalking forward she kicked open the door to Tektus' private quarters, forming a huge dent in its surface and tearing it off its upper hinges.

What she saw when the door had given way was almost beyond belief and caused bile to rise up at the back of her throat. She found herself looking at Tektus lying on his bed which had been repositioned in the centre of the room, two limbless feral glowing ones strung from the ceiling with tubes leading from the stumps of their arms. Both of them were attached directly to Tektus' veins, their vile green blood coursing into his body. When he heard her enter, Tektus looked up at her woozily as she stormed forwards before slicing through each of the tubes leading from the ghouls and dropping the crippled monsters to the ground, where she despatched them with two quick stomps of her armoured boot. "Emissary?" Tektus said in an unsteady, fevered tone, almost as if he didn't really know what was going on. "Have you come to help me ascend? The flesh-change will not come for me. Am I unworthy after all?"

"Yes," Rachel said, bluntly. "You _are_ unworthy, Tektus. You're unworthy because your vision goes against everything Atom commands. The Mother will not welcome you into His embrace."

She gripped the haft of her hammer with both hands and raised it above her head, preparing to end Tektus and his threat with one decisive final blow.

Before she could land that final blow, however, Tektus reached out with one gnarled hand and slurred "Have mercy, Emissary!" in a panicked tone. "Have mercy!"

"Why should I?" Rachel snarled at him in contempt, still keeping the hammer at the ready. "What kind of mercy did you show those people you killed?"

"Please," Tektus pleaded. "I was wrong. I see that now. If I am unworthy, then the holy ones will need more than my hand to guide them: they need a messenger from the Mother to show them the way. They need _you,_ Emissary."

"Richter seemed to disagree," Rachel said, gesturing to the makeshift bandage over the remains of her ruined eye. "He did this. I killed him for it."

"Richter is dead?" Tektus asked, seeming to deflate a little then.

"Yes," Rachel said. "He died defending you and your plan."

"Then it's true," Tektus whispered, lowering his gaze in despair. "I am disgraced. Atom has abandoned me. My life is forfeit."

Rachel considered that for a moment, and as she did so Elder Maxson's words to her before she had set out in this mission echoed through her mind. _There's too much at stake for you to let sentiment cloud your judgement,_ he had told her… but maybe sentiment really was what she needed here. After all, she had promised Piper that she would solve this situation with faith, not bullets, and she had used her apparent gift for words rather than her skill with weapons to bring people like Sister Emily around to her way of thinking. Maybe this could still end in peace. Maybe no more blood would need to be shed. She scowled for a moment before she grabbed Tektus by the scruff of the neck. "Come with me," she hissed, before she dragged him towards the ladder to the hatch at the top of the submarine, and indicated that he should climb out. "Up. Now."

"I don't understand –" Tektus began, his ruined features contorting grotesquely.

"You and I are going to fix this divide, High Confessor," Rachel interrupted. "Call this the first step of your repentance. Don't make me regret this."

Tektus gripped the ladder and slowly began to climb out of the hatch, his gnarled hands closing uncertainly around the cold steel rungs. When they had emerged into the wider space of the dry dock, they stood together on the tower of the submarine, much of which was still covered with debris from the remains of the collapsed wooden structures. The din of battle had largely subsided, with Tektus' feral ghoul foot soldiers either outright slain or fatally crippled, and the few sentient ghoul followers that were still alive kneeling on the surface of the dry dock, their hands behind their heads and their glowing green blood smeared across their skin and robes. Defeat was etched on their ruined faces, and it only became more intense when they saw Rachel standing side by side with their leader.

"Speak to them," Rachel told Tektus, ushering him forwards. "Tell them we're going to heal this divide together."

"I –" Tektus began, before he lowered his head. "As you wish, Emissary." He stepped up to the front of the pulpit, cleared his throat and began to speak as loudly as possible. "Children of Atom," he said, "be at peace! We must not fight each other any longer! Our gospel demands that we spread the word of Atom as far as possible, and if we break ourselves apart that cannot happen! We must have unity, and I will be the first to begin that process." Then, suddenly, a blade appeared in his hand and he turned inhumanly quickly, all of his supposed weakness leaving him for a moment. His blow was swift and vicious, the knife slicing a deep gash in the side of Rachel's neck. Bright arterial blood sprayed across the surface of her chest armour and although its internal systems immediately dosed her with enough stimpaks to quench the flow, it still made Rachel's vision start to swim for a moment or two as she stumbled backwards.

"Did you really think I would do as you told me, false prophet?" Tektus gurgled through slack lips. "We will only be at peace when you have returned to Atom." Even through the blur in her remaining eye Rachel could see the blade in his hand had been attached to a spring-loaded device strapped to the inside of his wrist. Tektus was ready to strike with his weapon again before two fist-sized holes suddenly bloomed side-by-side in his chest within seconds of each other, their edges cauterised by the dual energy pulses that had passed through them. Tektus looked down at his disintegrated chest in disbelief before his legs folded and he slumped lifelessly to the surface of the hatch, his ceremonial headgear clattering off his scalp as he did so. As the defective synth's body collapsed and her vision cleared, Rachel saw that the fatal shots had been fired by Zealot Theil and Knight Rhys, who had been standing shoulder to shoulder behind the row of wretched prisoners.

It seemed her little army had held together much more effectively than she had thought possible. The decisive blow had been struck as one. Even through the blood, the loss, and the pain, Rachel felt a swell of pride. Leaving Tektus's body where it had fallen, she picked up his headgear and walked slowly down to the surface of the dry dock, where Piper rushed up to her in shock. "Blue…" she exclaimed, horrified. "Your _eye_ –"

"It's not important right now, Pipes," Rachel said. "We have to finish this first." Walking over to where the prisoners knelt, she waved their wardens aside and stood in front of them with her arms folded across the front of her chest-plate. "Children of Atom," she intoned, "I am the Emissary of the Mother of the Fog, and this is my judgement: all of you are free. Go to the Commonwealth. Preach the word of Atom if you want to – but remember that I'll be watching. If I hear anything that makes me think you're going against our gospel I will find you, and you will be censured. Severely. Do I make myself clear?" The ghouls glanced at each other in shock, visibly unable to believe they had been spared. Rachel decided they needed a little prompting, so she continued "I said, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Emissary," one of them said meekly, instantly echoed by the other prisoners.

"Good," Rachel told them. She turned her head to address Zealot Theil. "Organise an escort party, Zealot. Take these people back to Far Harbor and make sure they get off the island safely."

Theil inclined her head downwards for a moment. "As the Emissary wills it," she said diligently, before she began to round up some of her fellow believers.

"Emissary?" came a small voice from her left. Rachel cursed silently as she realised her peripheral vision was now non-existent on that side and then shifted her gaze to where the voice was coming from. She turned to see Sister Emily looking at her anxiously. "Your eye, it's… are you in pain?"

Rachel shook her head. "No. My armour stopped that when it pumped me full of stimpaks. I'll be fine… but I'm pleased you're here, sister. I wanted to make you a proposal. This church is going to need a new leader while it rebuilds. I think you'd be perfect for that." She held out Tektus's headgear. "The job's yours, if you want it."

At that instant the younger woman's face became a mask of unadulterated shock. "Me?" she said, clearly stunned. "But I'm not worthy. I'm just a girl, I'm not even a zealot yet –"

"Atom doesn't care about your age, sister," Rachel said, holding out the crown again. "He cares about your devotion, and you're the most devoted servant I've seen since I came back to this island. So what do you say?"

"I…" Sister Emily began, before she shook her head. "No. This church isn't home anymore. I want to go back to the Commonwealth with you and make a fresh start." She paused. "Maybe Atom will call me back here again one day, but right now I just want to leave. Does that make me less devoted than you thought?"

"Not even a little," Rachel told her, briefly laying an armoured hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, sister. Atom blesses the brave."

"Thank… thank you, Emissary," Sister Emily said, before she gestured at the crown in Rachel's hand. "Perhaps Zealot Ware would be a better choice?"

"I'll talk to him about it," Rachel replied. "Go help Zealot Theil and we'll speak again later."

"As the Emissary wills it," Sister Emily said before she scurried off in search of Theil, leaving Rachel alone with Piper. She turned, taking a deep breath and triggering the release mechanism of her armour. What was left of it unclasped and let her step out, standing before her fiancee with her ragged new scars on full display. Piper's eyes briefly flashed with anger before it faded and was replaced with relief, and she flung herself at Rachel, throwing her arms around her and clinging to her like a lost child.

"You came back to me," she whispered as she laid her head against Rachel's chest. "Don't ever leave me again." She looked up at the taller woman and brushed her fingers over the makeshift bandage covering her wrecked eye socket. "Oh, Blue. What did you give up this time?"

Reaching up, Rachel removed the bandage and Piper gasped at what lay beneath it. "Oh God, Blue," she breathed. "What did they do to you?"

"It's nothing," Rachel insisted. "It's all healed. I'm not going to bleed to death."

"How can you _say_ that?" Piper exclaimed. "How can you be so – so –" She stopped mid-sentence, her tears overcoming her, and she silently sobbed against Rachel's body, her shoulders juddering as she cried.

"It's okay," Rachel whispered. "I promise it's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."

She hoped that was true.


	16. Conversations

"Hi, honey."

Rachel smiled faintly as she sat down cross-legged next to the simple grave outside Sanctuary Hills that she had dug for Nate. She had done it all herself, despite Preston and Sturges offering to do it for her – from digging the hole, to moving her husband's cold, lifeless body from his cryo-pod in the vault to his final resting place, to covering him with loamy, radiation-blasted dirt, a simple wooden cross showing where he had finally been laid to rest.

She tried to visit him at least once a week, but reality would often get in the way and she would often go a month without talking to him, sometimes more. On this occasion, however, she had deliberately made time to sit by his grave, because she had something she needed to say.

"I know it's been a while," she said, looking down at her hands as she folded them together in her lap. "I'm sorry. Life's just been… it's been really crazy. I had to save the Commonwealth from a mad android and his army of radioactive zombies." She let out a brief snort of laughter. It really did sound even more ridiculous when she said it out loud. "I know, I know, it sounds like something someone wrote in one of your comic books, but I swear it's true. I also have a whole new bunch of friends coming here from an island up north. They think I'm some kind of icon, a messiah come to save them from damnation." She held a finger up to her temple and moved it in a few slow circles, whistling softly. "Personally I think they're all a little coo-coo for Sugar Bombs, but they seem to like me anyway. One of them even wants to be my missionary here in the Commonwealth. Can you imagine? I used to think I'd never follow in Dad's footsteps but here I am, leader of a church I don't even believe in. I wonder what Dad would have made of that?"

She gestured to the compact brahmin-leather patch covering her left eye-socket, which didn't do much to conceal the thin, uneven line of raised, knotty tissue which stretched from the middle of her forehead to the upper part of her cheek, neatly bisecting her eyebrow. "As you can see I picked up a few more scars since the last time we talked. Knight-Captain Cade on the _Prydwen_ says there's nothing he can do to bring the eye back naturally – there's not enough tissue left to try to re-grow it, so it seems like I'm stuck this way. Preston says he thinks the patch suits me, but I'm not sure whether he's being sincere or whether he's just saying that to make me feel better." She shrugged. "Either way I'll take it. You always did tell me to try to look on the bright side, so I'm trying to look on the bright side, even if I have one less eye to do it."

She shifted position slightly, uncrossing her legs and draping her hands over one raised knee. "I have something else to tell you: I'm getting married today. You remember Piper, the girl I met in Diamond City? I proposed to her a few weeks ago, while I was in the sick bay of the _Prydwen._ " She paused. "I thought about asking her for so long, but I just couldn't find the words. I kept thinking about how you must have felt before you asked me, and I…" Her voice trailed off again for a moment as her breath hitched in her throat. "I love her so much, Nate. I want to spend the rest of my life with her." She placed her hand palm-down on the ground next to the cross at the head of the grave, and she felt a tear beginning to bead in the corner of her remaining eye, running down her cheek and leaving a salty trail as it trickled towards the corner of her lips. "This doesn't mean I'm forgetting you – I could never do that. I just… I needed to find my place in this world, and she's the one who showed me where that place was. Please don't be mad, my darling. You'll always be the one who gave me my son, who made me try to be a better person every day. I'll never be able to repay you for that." She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to the surface of the cross tenderly. "I love you, Nathaniel Adams. I always will. Don't you ever doubt that."

* * *

Piper sat in her house in Diamond City, staring at the rather forlorn bouquet of hubflowers in her hands. Blue had told her about how wedding bouquets used to be much more vibrant before the war, but in the ashen expanse of the wasteland the muted blue of the humble hubflower was as colourful as they were likely going to get, and that saddened her a little. She stood up and paced up and down nervously in front of her couch. Things were starting to get uncomfortably real, and a knot was beginning to form in her stomach.

"Piper?" Nat asked, a tangible note of concern in her voice as she fiddled with some last-minute additions to the dress Piper had chosen to wear at the ceremony. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, kiddo," Piper replied, secretly thankful to be shaken off her train of thought. "Don't you worry about me."

"But if I don't do that, who will?" Nat retorted. "You and me forever, remember?"

"Always," Piper said. "You and me forever."

"So why are you making it about more than that?"

Piper blinked, blindsided. "Where did that come from?" she asked. "I thought you loved Blue?"

"I do," Nat said with a shrug. "I love Shaun too… but I still kinda miss the days when it was just the two of us, don't you?"

"Those were good times, weren't they?" Piper agreed, with a wry smile. "I always liked coming home to you after wrapping up a big story." She beckoned Nat closer and invited her to sit on her knee, which Nat quickly accepted, wrapping her arms tightly around her big sister and tucking her head against Piper's shoulder. "That's my girl," Piper said, stroking Nat's hair and kissing her on the forehead. "We can still do everything we used to do, you know. We'll just have more company."

"I know," Nat said. "So you're really going to do this, then?"

"Yes, I am." Something clicked in Piper's head just at that moment. "Wait a minute… you didn't mean any of what you just said, did you?"

"You looked like you were starting to get cold feet, so I thought I'd fix that," Nat chuckled. "I'll get you to the church on time if it's the last thing I do, Piper."

"You're a smart kid, you know that?" Piper said, ruffling her sister's hair. "You almost had me fooled there for a moment or two."

"I had a good teacher," Nat told her. "You can fool anyone."

"Obviously not _anyone_ ," Piper replied. "I couldn't fool you, could I?"

"I guess not," Nat said triumphantly. "Can we get back to getting ready now?"

Piper smiled. "Sure we can, kiddo. Pass me that needle and thread, will you, please? I found a hole in my hat I need to fix real quick."

Nat grabbed the needle and thread off the table in front of Piper's chair and handed them to her big sister in a single movement. "Here you go," she said as she did so. "Do you think we're really going to be happy forever?"

"Of course we will," Piper said. "We're a family, remember? You, me, Blue and Shaun can take on the world together if we try."

* * *

Rachel stood outside the All-Faiths Chapel in Diamond City, feeling her heart thundering in her chest as Pastor Clements checked his notes for the ceremony. She could feel the starched collar of her dress uniform's shirt cutting uncomfortably into her neck, and so she reached up briefly and ran her gloved finger between the shirt and her skin to try to lessen the pressure. The skin of her cheek started to itch around the edges of her patch then, too, and she scratched at it in irritation. She wondered if Nate had felt this uncomfortable when he had worn his uniform to their wedding.

"Nervous, General?"

Rachel jumped, startled at the sound of Preston's voice. Her second-in-command had appeared over her shoulder almost from out of nowhere. "Jesus, Preston, don't do that," she said, exasperated. "I'm just a little uncomfortable in this uniform."

"You know, if you really wanted to look your best, you could have worn your general's uniform instead. That looks much more comfortable," Preston suggested. He smiled. "And the hat's better, too."

"That thing's a little too much like combat armour for me to wear it for a wedding, I think," Rachel replied, rubbing at the bridge of her nose with the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. "I don't want to look like I'm just about to go to war today, thank you."

"Speaking of which," Preston said as the roar of at least two vertibirds rumbled loudly on the wind, "I think your boss just got here."

"Maxson?" Rachel said, in confusion. "What's he doing here?" The Elder hadn't said a word to her before about joining either her or her wedding party, so she was a little puzzled as to why he would misdirect her like that, unless he was displaying some hidden depths she hadn't seen yet.

The volume of the vertibirds' engines indicated that it landed right outside the city gates, and as the sound of the rotors coming slowly to a stop faded, another tune began to echo from the top of the staircase. It was a slightly tinny, artificial rendition of the bridal march, and as it got closer Rachel could see it was coming from Codsworth's vocaliser unit as he hovered slowly down the staircase, followed by the thumping footsteps of half a dozen Brotherhood knights clad in full power armour and holding their laser rifles across their chests as they stomped noisily towards the market before forming ranks on either side of the staircase.

And then Rachel saw her. Piper had been concealed behind the honour guard of knights but now she was visible, radiant in a pure white dress with a lengthy train being carried by her sister while Shaun walked along behind them carrying the rings on a surprisingly intact cushion, dressed more smartly than Rachel had ever seen him and beaming with the kind of happiness that she felt herself.

What was most shocking to her was the fact that Piper was being walked down the makeshift aisle by Elder Maxson himself, of all people. Neither of them looked awkward or uneasy about the arrangement, either, which was almost as surprising. Maxson even had the ghost of a smile on his scarred face, and Maxson's smiles were rare as herbivorous deathclaws in Rachel's experience.

At that moment Preston squeezed her hand encouragingly. "Go get your girl, ma'am. I'll be here when you get back," he said, giving her a reassuring salute. "Ad victoriam."

"Ad victoriam, Preston," Rachel replied, swallowing the lump she could feel building in her throat. "Wish me luck…"

* * *

"So, I think you and I need to have a little talk," Rachel said as she sat down next to Nat outside the Dugout Inn, immediately after the wedding ceremony had officially ended.

"About what?" Nat asked, sounding a little puzzled.

"About what you're going to call me," Rachel explained. "I mean, am I your stepmom now, or am I your sister-in-law?"

"Why do I have to come up with a special name for you?" Nat asked, her face creasing into a derisive scowl. "Can't I just keep calling you Blue, like Piper does?"

Rachel laughed and bundled the girl closer to her, in a hug which was only reluctantly returned. "That sounds good to me," she said. "Blue it is, then."

* * *

With the wedding party in full swing, the Dugout Inn was noisier than usual, with the half-dozen Brotherhood knights out of their armour and busily trying to drink each other under the table in one corner while the other residents of Diamond City indulged in their usual nightly revelry. Rachel sat on one of the long couches with Piper perched cosily on her lap, Elder Maxson sitting to her left with a glass of whiskey uncharacteristically held in his hand.

"So tell me, Elder," Rachel began, "how did Piper manage to convince you to give her away? Weddings don't seem like your kind of thing, and she's not exactly your favourite person either."

"She promised me that she would stay away from Brotherhood operations in the Commonwealth for a full year if I would do this one thing for her," Maxson said, sipping a mouthful of his whiskey. "I figured that was a decent bargain." He eyed Piper deliberately. "I trust I can rely on you to keep up your end of that bargain, Ms Wright?"

"That's _Mrs Wright-Adams_ to you," Piper retorted, before she cracked a broad smile. "And yes, you can count on me to stay out of your way as long as you don't do anything really bad. Then all bets are off."

Maxson snorted, which was the closest thing to a laugh that Rachel had ever heard him utter. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less," he said. "Arguing with you is never anything other than a futile endeavour."

"Damn right it is," Piper chuckled, before she drew Rachel's face towards her and captured her lips in a kiss. "Good thing my wife loves me, I guess."

"Yes, I can see she does," Maxson replied, his voice softening slightly around the edges, which took both Rachel and Piper by surprise. "As infuriating as you are, Mrs Wright-Adams, I wish you and Sentinel Adams nothing but happiness – with one small proviso."

"And that would be?"

"That you never let her down," Maxson said. "I will not have one of my finest officers compromised by anything, least of all an annoying reporter."

Piper let out a deep breath, visibly relieved. "Is that all?" she asked. "You don't have to worry about that, Arthur." She laughed. "I thought you were going to ask us to name our first child after you or something."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Maxson said without missing a beat. "Imagine it: the first child born to the Brotherhood in our new base of operations. What better way to mark such an occasion?" His stony expression turned to one of controlled amusement as Rachel and Piper both looked at him, aghast. "At ease," he said. "I would not ask anything like that of any of my troops. My ego is not that desperate for validation." He finished the last of his whiskey and then got to his feet. "Now, I have matters to attend to on the _Prydwen._ I'll be in touch tomorrow, Sentinel. I believe we have some further matters to discuss regarding your future with the Brotherhood, and I would rather not do it here." After saluting her, he turned on his heel and made a beeline for the Dugout's exit, leaving Rachel feeling ever so slightly uneasy.

"Well, _that_ certainly sounded like bad news waiting to happen," she said, contemplating her drink with her good eye. Her patch had started to make her skin itch again, which she guessed was going to be a regular sensation from now on. "I wonder what he could mean by that?"

"If you ask me," Piper said, somehow snuggling even closer to her new wife, "I think he's just jealous you got married before he did. Maybe he just needs some dating advice from a pro?"

"If that's what he wants from me, he's got to be desperate," Rachel laughed. "Oh well, I guess I'll find out what he needs tomorrow… so until then I think we have a party to enjoy, don't you?" She shifted Piper off her lap, stood up and grasped her wife's hand before leading her to the centre of the bar. "Dance with me?" she asked.

"I thought you'd never ask," Piper said, draping her arms around Rachel's shoulders. "Let's show these Diamond City bums how to cut a rug…"

* * *

Rachel alighted from the vertibird transport onto the flight _Prydwen_ and made her way to the ship's command deck, where she was greeted by both Elder Maxson, and, to her surprise, Proctor Quinlan, who she could see was holding something metallic in his hand. After they had exchanged salutes, Rachel stood at ease, her hands clasped behind her back. "You wanted to speak with me, Elder?" she asked, her curiosity starting to get the better of her.

"Yes, Sentinel, I did."

"As did I," Quinlan added, a touch hastily.

"Thank you, sir," Rachel said, out of sheer habit. She was not exactly looking forward to any answers she might receive, but she supposed it was better to know than remain ignorant. "May I ask why?"

"Quinlan and I have been discussing your particular… requirements… following your successful operation on the island," Maxson began, "and we feel that your circumstances require… special attention."

"My circumstances?" Rachel said, feeling a little confused. "I'm not sure what you're implying, sir."

"You only have a single eye now, Sentinel," Maxson replied bluntly. "You are one of my best soldiers, but even that doesn't change the fact that you are now no longer fully field-capable. Therefore, effective immediately –"

"Am I being discharged?" Rachel interrupted sharply. It went against all protocol to speak out of turn, she knew, but at this moment she didn't really care about that.

" _Therefore,_ effective immediately _,"_ Maxson continued, without pause and visibly annoyed, "I am assigning Proctor Quinlan to you as an adviser. He has a proposal for you, which I have agreed to. Shall we continue, or do you wish to interrupt me again?"

"No, sir, I do not," Rachel said.

"Good," Maxson said, before he stepped aside and let Quinlan approach her more closely.

"The Elder and I have discussed this at length," he said, "and we both feel there is a solution to your predicament. How much do you know about cybernetics, Sentinel?"

"I know I ripped some out of the man who killed my husband," Rachel replied, with a shrug. "Other than that, I'm not exactly well-read on the subject."

"Well, then, this ought to be an educational experience for you," Quinlan said. "The Brotherhood has some experience with the use of cybernetic implants in its combat troops – one of the most dedicated officers at the Citadel in the Capital Wasteland, Star Paladin Cross, is fully able to function without sleep or food thanks to her augmentations. I feel we can make the same kind of difference here." He held out something that he had been concealing in his right hand, a small metallic object with what appeared to be a large blue lens attached to one side of it. "This is a cybernetic ocular implant, constructed thanks to a combination of pre-war technological documentation and post-war innovation, which will do everything your lost eye could do and more. If you wish, we can install it immediately. While his first duty is as a combat medic, Knight-Captain Cade is also a fully-qualified surgeon and has agreed to make this operation his top priority. With my instruction, this implant could revolutionise your field capabilities. What do you say, Sentinel? Shall I tell Knight-Captain Cade to begin preparations?"

Rachel looked at the angular lines of the implant, unable to quite believe what she was seeing. Still, this was an opportunity she couldn't really pass up – not if she wanted to maintain her position as a field officer rather than becoming a mere desk-jockey.

"Okay," she said, her voice quavering for a moment before she steeled herself. "Let's do it."


	17. Chapter 17

"Hey," came a voice, shaking Rachel out of her reverie as she watched the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon from one of the deckchairs she had set up on the roof of the _Publick Occurrences_ offices. She looked up to find Piper standing to her left, carrying a bag over one shoulder, out of which she pulled two pristine bottles of beer. Her new wife had been away interviewing the leaders of various wasteland communities as part of a new lifestyle column she had added to her paper to replace her stories about the Institute, so it was beyond a relief to see her back safe and sound.

"Hey," she echoed, making to get up out of her seat before Piper set the beers down on the small table in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her gently back towards her seat.

"No, don't get up. Let me come to you," she said, sitting down in the other chair and inching it closer to Rachel's so that they were next to each other. When the arm-rests were touching, she leaned closer, put her hand on Rachel's cheek and turned her face towards her so that she could kiss her hello. "Hi," she said, intertwining her fingers with Rachel's as she broke the kiss. "How's your week been?"

"Oh, you know, same old routine," Rachel said, with a shrug. "Get up, make some breakfast, sit around waiting for orders from the _Prydwen_ … the usual."

"Starting to go stir-crazy, huh? It's only been a week!" Piper said, chuckling softly for a moment. "How much leave did Maxson say you should take, anyway?"

"Three months," Rachel replied with a sigh. "He still thinks it's going to take me that long to get used to my new –" and she gestured at her face, to the sleek grey metal implant covering her left eye-socket which contained a softly-whirring blue lens "– modification." Her fingers reflexively traced the relatively fresh scar and shaven portion of her scalp that showed where the implant's connector filaments had been inserted under her skin, in order to link its camera directly to her brain's visual cortex. Knight-Captain Cade had been fully capable of carrying out the surgery, as Proctor Quinlan had promised, but the final implementation had meant taking a significant amount of her hair away. She wasn't sure if she wanted to grow it back; perhaps the scar deserved to be on display like virtually every other scar on her body. Every one of them had a story behind them, after all, and she liked being able to let them tell those stories.

Oblivious to Rachel's momentary lapse, Piper raised her eyebrows. "I guess he had a good reason, then. How's that new eye feeling so far?"

"So far? So far it feels… really weird," Rachel said, fully returning her attention to the present. "I can see so much more than I could before. Colours are brighter. Everything seems… more focused, somehow."

"Colours?" Piper said, slightly puzzled. "I thought cameras like that didn't have colour?"

Rachel shrugged. "Proctor Quinlan says the majority of the tech the Brotherhood uses to build bionic implants comes from an old abandoned vault in West Virginia that they took over about fifty years ago. Most of what they took out of it is back at the Citadel in the Capital Wasteland, but Quinlan always carries information on his computers. He used it to put together some blueprints and then went from there." She paused, suddenly very aware of the fact that she had been starting to babble a little. "Sorry. It just sounded so interesting that I had to share it with someone and I don't think Nat would have been very keen."

"It's okay," Piper said, squeezing Rachel's hand gently. "Listening to people is my job. What else can that implant do?"

"Is this an official interview now?"

"If you want it to be," Piper told her. "I'm sure my readers would like to know about technology. It'd be like one of those old pre-war magazines or something."

"Okay," Rachel said, scratching at the skin skirting the edge of the metal. "Proctor Ingram says that when I get back on active duty she can modify a standard power armour helmet to interface with it. All I have to do is remove the lens and the helmet's visor display will plug directly into the socket."

"Remove the lens? How do you do that?" Piper asked, with a quizzical furrowing of her eyebrows.

"Like this," Rachel replied, before she reached up to the side of her eye and tapped a small, almost invisible button on its surface twice in quick succession. After she had done so she gently removed the lens with her other hand, watching with amusement as Piper visibly went a little green around the gills at the sight of her empty eye-socket before she slotted the lens back into its housing and twisted it to lock it tightly into place. "Oh come on, Pipes, it's not that gross. It's just like turning off a light-switch. You don't get weirded out by that."

"Yeah, but light-switches aren't usually in people's heads," Piper retorted. "You better not make a habit of that."

"Actually I kind of have to," Rachel replied. "I have to remove the lens at night so the input stops, or I can't get to sleep."

Piper sighed. "Of _course_ it had to work like that," she said, exasperated. "Couldn't you have just asked Ingram to fit a snooze button into that thing?"

"And miss out on watching people squirm when I pop it out? No way," Rachel said with a small smile. "You've got your party trick, now I have mine."

"No fair!" Piper protested. "I can't compete with that!"

"You could if you got yourself some robot legs," Rachel said, watching Piper's face crinkle with disbelief. "I'm serious, Pipes – I can go talk to Quinlan about it the next time I'm on the _Prydwen._ We could be bionics buddies!"

"Oh, shut up, you asshole," Piper said, gently bumping Rachel's shoulder with her fist. "I like my legs just fine the way they are, thank you."

"Spoilsport. I think you'd look good with some augmentation," Rachel teased. "Maybe just a robot hand instead?"

"Keep talking about cutting bits off me and I'm filing for divorce," Piper told her flatly.

"Okay, okay, no bionics," Rachel said, holding her hands up. "I always knew I was cooler than you anyway."

Piper burst out laughing then, quickly covering her mouth as she spluttered. "You wish," she said when she had managed to compose herself. "You could never be as cool as me. I'm a happening gal, Blue. Always have been. Finger on the pulse, daddio."

"Sure you are, honey," Rachel replied, her words dripping with sarcasm. "I must say I'm completely convinced."

"Think what you like," Piper said, sticking her tongue out. "Nat still thinks I'm cool." She paused. "So on a completely different note… I've been thinking about our honeymoon."

"Me too," Rachel agreed. "Not like I've had much else to do while you've been away, after all – you still want to go to Nuka-World?"

"I think it could be fun to look around there," Piper said. "I mean I've only read about it in old papers, but it sounded like the greatest place in the world. You said you've been there, didn't you?"

"Back before the war, yeah," Rachel said. "I'd guess it isn't nearly as nice as it was back then, but it's worth a try, I suppose. Probably a good chance some of the rides are still working – they built reactors to last back then so the park should still have power." She smiled. "I gotta say I can't wait to take you to lunch in the Fizztop Grille. You can see almost the whole park from that restaurant, and there's most likely a stash of fresh food there, too. I call that a win."

"Sounds wonderful," Piper said, before she shifted herself out of her chair and into Rachel's lap, kissing her gently as she did so, "although I reckon it wouldn't be half as good without you."

"You could still have fun," Rachel replied. "Safari Adventure has some great attractions. The hedge maze is one of my favourites; Nate and I got lost in it for an hour the first time we went there. I think he was doing it on purpose just to spend more time with me – it was our first big vacation together after he was discharged, so he was really glad to be home."

"Coming home to you meant a lot to him, huh?"

"It meant the world to both of us," Rachel agreed. "It meant we could finally go on our honeymoon – he got drafted a couple of days after we got married so we had to put it on hold."

"Wow," Piper said, her eyes wide. "You and Nate had the worst luck in the world." She clapped her hand over her mouth as she realised what she had just said. "Oh God, Blue, I didn't mean –"

Rachel put a finger to Piper's lips to stop her talking. "I know what you meant, Pipes," she said, reassuringly. "You don't have to apologise. Nate and I really _did_ have the worst luck in the world. But," and she removed her finger from Piper's mouth, "he and I had each other, and that was all that mattered. And now I have you, and I know he'd be happy for me." She tapped Piper on the nose and kissed her. "I love you, you strange little woman. Now let's get packing – Nuka-World won't wait forever."

"Good plan," Piper replied. "Better get back home first, though, or Nat and Shaun will wonder where we've gone." She grinned. "And how would Preston know to ask someone else for help?"

Rachel sighed. "You always know what to say the ruin the mood, don't you?"

"What can I say, it's a gift," Piper said with a chuckle. "Now let's get going, or that train will leave without us."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Rachel said. "I just have to run a couple of errands first, then we can get going. Don't leave without me, okay?"

* * *

Rachel knocked on the door of Home Plate. If she was honest she missed living there a little, since it had been her own space and she had crafted virtually everything in it, but it had stopped being her home since she had gifted it to Sister Emily, who had quickly set about turning it into a shrine to Atom and had sold or simply thrown out all of the expensive furnishings. Given the poor reputation of the Children of Atom, the citizens of Diamond City probably would have run her out of town within days if she had not been friends with the woman who had saved the Commonwealth, but now she was a valued member of the community since she regularly helped out with any menial tasks that needed doing, or with feeding the needy from her own small private garden of mutfruits and tatos that she kept on the house's roof. The door of the building had been daubed with what she had called a purity seal - which was actually just the old pre-war radiation-warning sign, but Rachel wasn't about to tell her that – and had a little sign on it which gave notice of when she would be holding prayer sessions. As far as Rachel knew, nobody had taken her up on the offer yet, but Sister Emily never gave up hope.

Rachel admired that about her.

She knocked on the door again and for a moment she heard the rapid fumblings of someone desperately trying to make it seem like they had not just got up. It took a couple of minutes for Sister Emily to open the door a sliver and look out with bleary eyes. When she saw who it was who had turned up, though, focus instantly returned to her face and she opened the door fully, standing up as straight as she could. Her robes were crumpled and unsecured, but she was nevertheless still clothed. She bowed her head in reverence after she had opened the door a little wider, prompting Rachel to lay her hand on the top of her scalp, which was now covered with a short crop of blonde hair after the radiation from the _Nucleus_ had drained out of her and allowed her immune system to recover a little.

"Emissary," she said reverently as Rachel removed her hand. "How may I serve you?"

"Easy, sister," Rachel told her. "I just wanted to let you know that Piper and I are going on a little trip for a couple of weeks, so I need you to keep an eye on this place for me. If there are any signs of big trouble I want you to use one of these to call for help." She held up a bag full of standard-issue Brotherhood signal grenades and the flare gun Preston had given her two years previously. "Pop one of these grenades and it'll bring a full squad of knights to your position, and this flare gun will let any Minutemen in range know you need assistance. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Emissary," Sister Emily said, taking the bag of supplies in both hands. "I'll do my best."

"That's all I ask," Rachel replied. "I'll see you again soon, and I'll tell you all about my vacation. Atom be with you, sister."

"And also with you," Sister Emily responded almost automatically. Then she smiled, something which she still largely reserved only for special occasions. "Enjoy your vacation, Emissary."

"That's the plan," Rachel laughed. "I promise I'll bring you back a souvenir."

* * *

Piper had herded both Shaun and Nat into their house in Sanctuary Hills and sat them down at the dinner table. Rachel sat across from them and took one of their hands in each of hers, giving them an encouraging smile as she did so. "Hey guys," she said, "Piper and I are going to go on a trip soon, so you two are going to have to keep an eye on this place for us. I've asked Auntie Cait and Uncle Preston to look after you while we're gone, so you won't be alone."

"Where are you going?" asked Shaun.

"Nuka-World," Rachel replied simply. "We're going to do a little exploring around there to see if it's somewhere we can all go visit one day, once we've made sure it's safe."

"Are you going to fly there?" Nat said. "You have to fly us there if you do."

"There's a monorail to take you straight there already, sweetie," Rachel told her, squeezing her hand gently. "That's much less risky – there aren't as many guns on it, for starters."

Nat huffed in indignation. "No fair," she said in a sulky tone. "You guys never let me have any fun."

"Well _I_ think that sounds great," Shaun said pointedly, glaring at his sister for a moment. "Don't be gone too long, Mom."

"I'll try not to be, sweetie," Rachel told him. "You be good, okay?"

* * *

"Wait," Preston had said, after Rachel had filled him in on her plans. "You're not going to Nuka-World by yourself, are you, General?"

"No," Rachel had told him. "I'll have Piper with me. We'll be fine, Preston."

"Are you sure? I mean I could have a group of Minutemen escort you there if you want –"

"We'll be fine, Preston," Rachel had repeated. "I'll see you in two weeks."

Piper and Rachel had made their way towards the entrance to the Nuka-World transit station. Rachel had made the trip multiple times before, but never like this – the wasteland was much different to the usual bustling crowds and endless queues for the monorail train that would take them to the most wonderful place in the entire world (according to the Nuka-Cola corporation, anyway). Each of them had packed a suitcase and backpack each, with as much clothing, ammunition and food as possible. As much as they had wanted this to be purely a vacation, they both had known it was better to be prepared than be caught unawares. Any other attitude was just naive.

The way to the transit centre had been a little bumpy, a few wild dogs looking for an easy meal and some unusually aggressive radstags, but nothing overly stressful. When Rachel had reactivated the power to the monorail, the two of them boarded the main carriage, finally able to sit down and take some weight off their legs.

"Looks like we're home free, Blue," Piper said, as she leaned back and stretched out her limbs like a cat getting ready for a nap. "Time to relax at last, right?"

"Definitely," Rachel agreed. "Happy honeymoon, honey."

As the train swept past the distant, towering Fizztop Mountain, however, its pre-recorded commentary documenting the immense structure's precise measurements abruptly crackled and died, replaced by a gravelly, menacing voice which sounded like its owner had had his vocal cords massaged by a razor.

"Well, well, well," it said. "Seems like we got some volunteers coming our way. Look, I only got a minute, so listen good. The name's Gage – Porter Gage. I'm your welcome wagon to Nuka-World… if you survive long enough to get to the front door, that is. You do that, and we can talk some more – I got an… interesting offer you might like to consider." A small chuckle punctuated. "Until then, try to have a little fun and put on a good show. I'll be watching."

Rachel's blood ran cold. "Oh, fuck," she said simply, suddenly wishing she had taken Preston up on his offer of a Minutemen escort. "That doesn't sound good at all."

"No it does not," Piper agreed. "What are we going to do, Blue?"

"The only thing we can do, Piper," Rachel said, digging into her backpack for the pistol she had stashed there, but had hoped she would never have to use on this trip. "We fight."


End file.
